


The Phoenix Rises

by SuperSillyAndDorky06



Series: The Phoenix Saga [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bratva Oliver, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Felicity Smoak Is His Lobster, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jealousy, Married Life, Married Sex, Possessive Behavior, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Protective Oliver, Sexual Tension, Smut, bratva!Oliver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 87,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSillyAndDorky06/pseuds/SuperSillyAndDorky06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For two years, Felicity has lived as a woman happily married to Oliver Queen. They have had their differences, like they always do, but nothing they could not come back from. Until now.<br/>Things crumble to the ground as an evil from the past descends upon their married life and tragedy reigns, they face something they never have before. But Felicity knows together, they can brave through. Oliver has no intention of letting go. Neither does she.<br/>Mature content. Mild swearing. A lot of sexual tension. You will probably want to bash their heads together at times.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! 
> 
> Okay, so first off, I have to warn you that this story will get dark. I cannot give a more specific warning because I do not want to spoil it for the others. That said its angst will be similar in intensity to The Phoenix so rest assured, it won't be too bad. 
> 
> I had no intention of continuing The Phoenix when I finished it, despite the absolutely spectacular response you all gave me and that story. I am so grateful for that. 
> 
> But one night, coincidentally on the train back home (which is where The Phoenix was born) the idea for this story came to me. I actually had a lot of apprehensions in the beginning- this is a sequel after all- and I was not entirely sure if I could pull off this storyline and live up to it. But this story didn't leave my head and I owed it to everyone and myself to write it down. 
> 
> So, here is the first chapter, comparatively short. This will be updated EVERY FRIDAY. #PhoenixFridays 
> 
> Stuff happens. 
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts. I love hearing from you! 
> 
> Happy reading!!!

 

* * *

                           

There was something seriously very, very wrong with her coffee. 

Felicity sipped it again, tentatively, but the foul taste did not leave her mouth. 

"Why are you making that face?" 

Felicity looked across the table at Sara, as she sipped on her own Irish coffee and frowned. "Does your coffee taste like some weird sludge that was probably made in a chemistry lab?"

Sara's lips twitched but she shook her head. "No. What's wrong with yours?"

Felicity pushed away the ceramic cup and sighed. "I think they probably used beans from before I was born."

Sara chuckled. "We have been coming here for years, Fell. And speaking of being born, someone's birthday is coming up in a week."

Felicity grinned, feigning surprise. "Really? Whose?"

Sara shook her head, smacking her on the arm. "So, what's that yummy hubby of yours have up his sleeve this time?"

Felicity's heart sped up just a little at his mention. And she flushed remembering her last birthday. "He is definitely up to something. Last time, I guessed the entire thing and you won't believe how grumpy he was for a week! So, I am trying not to think of it this time and _actually_ be surprised."

Sara's phone buzzed before she could speak and Felicity nodded for her to take the call, looking around the small, sunlit cafe. Sara had discovered the place after she had dropped out of college and asked Felicity to meet her here when she had returned from hers. And Felicity had fallen in love with the tiny, unassuming place at first sight. It wasn't like the chic, sophisticated restaurants she normally had visited her entire life, not like the places which were all facade and no substance. This cafe, Been Beaned, was all substance. There were only ten tables around the area done in browns and reds, tall, glass windows that allowed sunlight to stream in and a few stools near the granite counter.

After her wedding, their tradition of meeting every Saturday morning for coffee had dwindled down to almost nil but once things had settled with Ilyich, they had started again.

Ilyich.

Felicity inhaled deeply. It had been two years. Two years since the fiasco, since she almost killed a man, since her father killed himself. Two years of thinking it'd get better and it had, to an extent. She knew it would stay with her for life, but it didn't throw her off-kilter anymore. And almost the entire credit for that went to Oliver.

She had never, even after they got married and together, thought he would be the kind of husband he was.

Oliver Queen was a man of honor, she had known that. What she had not known, and she had discovered over the years that being in love with him and being loved by him drove her to extremes. The man either slayed her heart so completely that she would be nothing but a pile of goo, or he became so rigid and stubborn that it drove her up a wall.

But for two years, he had learned her even more. Just like she had him. And despite fights and arguments, because they were both stubborn, strong personalities that clashed way too often, their lives were happy. She was happy. And so was he, if their morning ritual was any indication at all.

She flushed slightly, thinking of it, even now. Which was ridiculous considering the sheer amount of sex and the ways they had had that sex was. A few months into their marriage, she had had a college reunion party, and she had gone, reconnecting with old classmates and people who had been her friends once. She remembered, even now, the way three of her only married friends had told her how the sex and the thrill just faded away after some time, sounding so sure and so resigned to the fact that it had scared her. Oliver had not been with her at the party, since he had been out of town for the first time in their marriage. She remembered how that had actually shaken her, and how her own thoughts of 'this is too good' had manifested that night when she had gotten home. She remembered wondering if they would fade away too, if they would forget this thrill. 

Oliver had called her that night, like he always did, and one second into the conversation, he had demanded to know what was wrong. And she had told him. Sort of. Oliver had responded with silence, then told her to go to sleep. And that was when her heart had plummeted and she had gone to their bed, and slept, hugging his pillow. She had woken up the next morning with the sensation of scruff on her neck and her eyes had flown open, heart pounding as she saw Oliver, softly kissing her neck, lying beside her in his suit. He had come home earlier than he was supposed to. And that morning, he had made love to her, telling her wordlessly everything she had needed, laying all her doubts to rest, whispering soft promises with his skin on hers.

He had made good on those promises. Two years had gone, a lot of things had changed, but they had not faded, not at all. When they fought, they had wild make-up sex. When they were happy, they made slow, soft love. And everything in between. The sex was fantastic but it wasn't the most important thing for them. It never had been.

It was the small ways he showed her that she was loved that mattered. The small ways she showed him.

Like she remembered breaking down on her father's first funeral, and like always, he had been her pillar. And when he came home some nights, with haunted eyes, she became his. Those nights always bothered her. She knew their world was not rainbows and unicorns. She knew their world was stained in blood, and she knew her husband spilled some of that blood too. She had accepted it long ago, accepted him long ago. But he never accepted himself. And on those particular nights, when the day had been red and his hands had been weapons, he would seek her out wherever she was and sit down, pulling her between his legs and bury his head into her chest, listening to her heart while she brushed his hair with her fingers. Those nights they never had sex, but just stayed that way for hours before heading to bed together and he pulled her into him, just being, just connecting. She always let him, always.

It were the mornings after those nights which were interspersed with kisses and smiles. She loved that. And when he was not brooding, he was so, so playful and teasing. It used to surprise her in the beginning, but over the years she realized something. Oliver, if he had nothing serious on his mind, or even if he did, was always playful with her. But the moment anyone else stepped into their space, he switched. It didn't matter if it was Digg or Roy or even Thea. Some of that playfulness dimmed. 

He had been plenty playful this morning, she remembered, unconsciously sipping her coffee and making a face at herself for forgetting the awful taste. The cafe people were so going to hear from her. 

Like Oliver did from time to time. He was so freaking stubborn sometimes, so rigid, not down there but in his thoughts, that throwing things at him became her only resort to keep from exploding. She hit him and punched his chest and basically became violent like she never was and he restrained her and held her down. Their fight, though not an actual physical fight, but a fight for control and all that anger spilled over into some of the most mind-blowing sex for both of them, raw and wild and animalistic, after which they talked like actual, civil people. It was almost a pattern, fueled by the knowledge that they would work out. The only time she could remember them breaking the pattern had been last winter.

She had asked him one night what he had done to keep his men away from her, since he never told her that. Oliver had stilled and just looked at her for a long time, before trying to distract her. She had stubbornly pursued the matter and bugged him for an answer for days before, annoyed, he had told her, more like yelled at her, that he had "taken care of Cooper Sheldon". That had made her freeze, even as she had felt her temper rise, ready to blow a gasket. She demanded details; he never spilled. For days, they had been angry with each other, she because he did not answer and he because she repeatedly asked and brought up something from the past. Days had gone by after finally, frustrated, they had both given in together, on the agreement that Felicity would not ask again and he would never do anything regarding without her knowledge again. She did not like it but she missed him, and that day, she learned compromise in the truest sense. He did too.  

She looked at Sara as she spoke to someone on her phone, standing near the door, and sighed. 

Things had changed a lot over the years. For one, Sara was a part of Bratva now. Apparently, she had decided that normal life was too boring for her and she had finally come into it via Oliver, working in combat training and stuff Felicity knew nothing about. But seeing her around the house sometimes, especially pulling Roy's leg, was fun. Speaking of Roy. The boy had finally, after a lot of courage, come out in the open about his relationship with Thea. And Felicity had been right. Oliver had clenched his jaw and given him the big brother lecture before walking away. At least it hadn't been a black eye.

Roy was still her bodyguard. But he didn't accompany her on her Saturday mornings since Sara was there. He took that time off for himself. And Thea. She had really made a huge success of the club, literally making it the best in the city. Felicity helped her with the security and accounts but it was all her own hard work. And she couldn't help but feel a little proud. She knew Oliver was. Which was why he had tried to give her a surprise birthday party at Thea's club last year. And Felicity had guessed it in a day. 

She grinned, remembering how grouchy he had been for that week, every time she had rubbed it in his face. It had been really sweet of him to try and she had thanked him very properly for it. But she couldn't guess what he was up to this year. He had been very careful and she had caught absolutely nothing from him except a devilish grin which always made her heart race.

Her phone buzzed and looked down, frowning at the unknown number.

That was another thing Oliver had told her. In their world, an unknown number could mean really bad news, so she should definitely never pick up those calls.

She stared at her screen, biting her lip just as Sara plopped back down in her seat. Felicity muted the call and shook away her thoughts, focusing on her friend's frowning face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Sara looked at Felicity and shook her head. "Nothing for you to worry about."

That did not sound like much of a reassurance.

"Who called?" Felicity persisted, curious.

"It was Digg," Sara replied, sighing. "It's just some security stuff. I'll take a look at it when we go back."

Felicity nodded, and changed the topic, and they just spent the morning away. 

Just like Saturday morning was a ritual with Sara and her, Saturday afternoon was for her mom.

Donna Smoak, after her husband's death, did not stop living, the way most of the other Bratva wives in their club did. No. She lived and recently, started dating again. Felicity was in awe of her mother and soon after the funeral, she had started going over to her for lunch after meeting Sara since the cafe was two block away from her old house. Her mom lived there, with Anatoly being the head now. 

His taking over her father's position had been a big move in the Bratva circles. Anatoly had a reputation and a clear head, mostly, and a good heart. That ensured a lot of changes in the brotherhood, including a very smooth relationship between Oliver and Anatoly. And Oliver had too, over the last two years, risen like crazy. She wouldn't be surprised if they announced for him to become a leader. She wouldn't be surprised but she didn't know how they would cope with that huge change. Power changed people, and her father had succumbed to it. She did not trust that power. And that slight trepidation made her queasy.

It was also the bad taste of coffee in her mouth making her queasy. She needed to change it.

Before she could get up, though, her phone buzzed again and she looked down to see the same unknown number flash on her screen.

She stared at it for a long time and it died down.

"Who's calling?" Sara asked her, getting up and picking up her bag, getting ready to leave. Felicity opened her mouth but for some reason, she didn't speak.

She looked down at her phone, something inside her telling her to pick up that call, and she had learned long ago to trust her instincts. The same instinct told her that the phone would ring again.

Felicity looked up at Sara. "Can you get the car? I'll just take a muffin and come."

Sara considered her for a second before shrugging and walking away, and out the door. The moment she was gone, the phone rang again and inhaling deeply, Felicity calmed her pulse and answered it.

"Hello?"

Nothing. Felicity frowned, listening closely. Breathing. She could hear heavy breathing on the other side. No reply, just heavy breaths.

She didn't dare utter another word, but something told her not to cut the call.

So, she stayed on the line, listening to the deep inhales and exhales, that were coming faster and faster, almost like pants.

Something shuffled on the other side and finally, Felicity heard something else.

"Felicity Smoak?" 

It was a woman's breathy whisper, so soft she almost didn't even hear it. 

Felicity swallowed. "Smoak-Queen," she corrected. "Who is this?" 

There was a small groan before the accented whisper came again. "Listen to me...."

She was listening, waiting with bated breath for the woman to speak. The breathing continued, but it was slowing down, going slower and slower, her soft groans interspersing her breaths. 

Felicity held the arm of her chair in a tight grip and whispered back for some reason, something heavy settling in her stomach. "Who are you?"

The woman huffed slightly, whispering back, her words slurring. "Dis naa matter." 

Felicity just waited, her eyes looking at Sara as she waved at her from the car but Felicity could not move, feeling almost as though the woman would vanish if she broke the moment. She needed to know who she was. And why she had called her. 

"What matters then?" she whispered, asking her. 

There was a loud inhale. "Be care...ah...ful," the woman said, heaving breaths in between. "There is something... ah.. you have... to.. ah..."

Sara waved even more vigorously, frowning from the car.

But Felicity stared unseeing, feeling her heart pounding violently in her chest, waiting for the woman to complete her sentence.

She did not.

"I have to what?" Felicity asked, needing the answer, knowing in her gut this was something pivotal.

Silence. 

Felicity started to open her mouth to speak again when she stopped herself, truly listening. 

There was utter silence on the other line. 

No breaths. No groans. Nothing. 

She swallowed about to put the phone down when the breathing came back. Soft and slow. Steady. This was not the woman's breathing. 

She stayed on the call. The breathing continued. 

And her heart hammered, goosebumps littering her arms, as shivers raced down her spine and she quickly cut the call, letting the implications of what had happened sit with her.

A strange woman had been calling her for minutes to tell her something. Something in her last moments. 

And Felicity had heard her die, while she had been trying to tell her something very important. Her logical mind knew it had to be of supreme importance for the woman to call in and use her last breaths. 

The last breaths which she had taken in someone else's presence. While she had been dying, someone else had been there.

Someone else who had heard that woman's life fade away and done nothing.

She jumped as Sara appeared in front of her, spooked for the first time in a long, long time and exited the cafe, nodding to whatever her friend was saying, her mind running a mile a minute.

It could have been a hoax, but something in Felicity told her it wasn't.

It told her that the woman had not been lying.

The woman, who had just died, trying to tell Felicity something.


	2. Simmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I apologize for not being able to update yesterday on schedule. I just didn't get the time to write an entire chapter in one sitting so I wrote a few ficlets here and there. 
> 
> Anyways, I wanted to thank you all who came out to support me in this story. I was very nervous about beginning it, to be honest, and your staggering response has been, well, staggering. So, thank you so much for being such wonderful people. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. Enjoy.
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts! I love to hear from you. 
> 
> Happy reading!!!

The phone call had freaked her out. 

It had been hours since the incident and Felicity still felt the goosebumps on her skin just remembering the the slow, soft breathing of the man. She had gone with Sara to meet her mom but even in the sunlit garden, her favorite spot in that house, she had been unable to relax. Her mother had nudged her gently and asked if she wanted to talk about something, but Felicity had kept quiet. The only person she had wanted to talk about it with had been her husband. Still was.  

Once done with the lunch, she had stopped to pick up some clothes with Sara at the Mall and come home, eager to see Oliver and talk to him. But Roy had informed her that he had some urgent business come up and he had left with Digg. 

She had called him once, just to hear his voice but it had gone to voicemail. 

Disappointed, Felicity had eaten her dinner sparsely, unable to swallow down much more than a few bites, and finally headed up to their bedroom, done for the night. Their bedroom itself had changed slightly over the past few years. Just slightly. Almost after their first anniversary, they had had a walk-in closet built in to accommodate both their wardrobes and changed the decor of the room, though still retaining the original green and brown. A new home theater had been added to the room because finally she had taken to educate him in popular culture every weekend once at least. The mirror, though, had remained untouched. Oliver just had it checked every six months or so, just for safety reasons, but so far, the mirror had held and it had held spectacularly. In fact, it had become as much a part of their marriage as anything else.

 

Felicity trudged up the stairs, feeling way too tired than she actually should, and entered the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She pulled up her dress over her head, making her way to the closet, and dropping the dress in the basket. Picking out one of his old t-shirts from his side (most of which had made their way into her side once she wore them and never made it back), she headed for a quick shower. Once freshened up, she came back out and went to her side of the bed, which had originally been his when he had brought her to this room for the first time, and switched on the television, lying down and hugging his pillow to her chest. His scent, from the fabric of the tee and the pillow, wrapping around her, cocooning her somehow into a sense of security, and she blinked slowly at the movie playing on the screen in the dark, not understanding a word as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

                                                   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

She woke up upon feeling movement. Her movement.

Her eyes opened slowly, already knowing his scent, his touch, even in the clutches of sleep.

Oliver leaned over her, settling her more comfortably into the pillows and tucking her better, his shirt unbuttoned and tie loose around his neck, sleeves folded over his sexy forearms. Felicity stretched a bit, mewling as he brushed his rough hand against her cheek, blinking up at him, on the precipice of falling asleep again.

"What time is it?" she croaked out in her sleep-roughened voice and saw him press a soft kiss into her hand in the darkness.

"Just after midnight," he spoke softly, getting up and removing his clothes, heading to take a shower as she knew was his routine. "Go back to sleep."

She blinked languidly at the ceiling, seeing her own self reflected back, all wanton limbs and wild hair, and smiled slightly, knowing how he enjoyed her just woken-up state. A few minutes later, he came back out with just a towel wrapped around his hips and picked up his phone, checking something. Felicity checked him out. Two years and the man just got sexier. His body was still just as deliciously muscled, still as energetic as ever. He had only gained a few more scars.

Her gaze lingered on those, remembering every time he came back home with a new one. He would look at her, even after all this time, with slight hesitation, like his new scar could be the thing to turn her off, like that new scar could make her realize the ugliness of all the others. All this time and he still somehow, deep down, was insecure. And Felicity just looked at the new scar, asked him about its story, learned it with her hands and mouth till he had no doubt that she loved this one too. And he would relax and kiss her and then another new scar would come and it would start again.

Sometimes it tired her out. But then she remembered how stupid her own insecurities got sometimes, and how in those moments of doubt, Oliver would always, without fail, look her right in the eyes and slay them. For them. So, she did too. For them. Because they were important.

"Why are you so quiet?"

Oliver's soft voice broke her out of her thoughts and she smiled, lying on her stomach and hugging the pillow under her with her arms, watching him as he slid in beside her completely naked, leaving the towel in the basket. He looked at her with soft eyes, eyes which had never changed in their intensity even after so long, and pulled her across the small gap between them, bringing her flush against his body.

His hand slowly went over her spine, in a movement that was completely theirs, and he looked her in the eyes seriously.

"What's wrong?"

Felicity blinked at him in surprise. She swore he could read her mind sometimes.

Oliver sighed, hearing her unasked question. "You mostly wait in bed naked for me, солнышко," he said softly, stroking her spine with gentle fingers. "Or you wear one of your cute shirts if you want me to seduce you. The only times you wear my t-shirt while in bed is when I am not here and something is wrong. So, tell me. What's wrong?"

Felicity heaved out a loud exhale, a smile on her lips at how observant this man was, and how he still managed to surprise her sometimes, and burrowed closer to him, inhaling the raw, musky scent of his skin, letting it soothe her.

"Something happened when I was with Sara today at the cafe," she whispered softly, keeping her eyes on him. She felt his muscles tense slightly, hearing in her voice how spooked she was, and his hand tightened a little over her hip.

"What happened?" he ground out, equally softly, his blue eyes piercing hers, completely on alert.

Felicity swallowed. "I got a phone call today."

His brows furrowed. "From who?"

Biting her lips, Felicity looked at his throat. "It was unknown."

She heard his loud sigh, saw him about to open his mouth to remind her that taking unknown calls was dangerous in their world, and she put a finger on his lips, shushing him before he could talk. 

"Look," she began hurriedly. "I know you told me not to pick up unknown calls and I get it but I just had this crazy feeling that I should and you also told me not to ignore my instincts so I didn't and I picked up the call and we are not talking about the fact that I picked up that call."

Oliver sighed heavily against her finger but his scowl didn't waver. "Fine. What happened then?"

Felicity's eyes closed, remembering the whispered voice of the woman, feeling it ghost over her skin even now.

"There was a woman," she whispered, keeping her eyes closed, remembering the phone call for the umpteenth time that day. 

"солнышко," Oliver's soft voice cut through the woman's in her mind and his fingers gently nudged her chin, making her open her eyes. She saw his face so close to hers, his eyes completely solid, waiting for her to speak. Taking a deep breath, knowing she had to rip it like band-aid, she started speaking quietly. 

"There was breathing at first. Heavy breathing. I initially thought it might be a prank call. But this woman came on. She was the one breathing. She was actually having trouble breathing and it was pretty evident. But she spoke a few words."

Oliver had tensed completely, but he waited her out without interruptions and she appreciated that.

She continued. "She knew who I was. And she warned me."

"About what?" Oliver frowned, unable to resist asking any longer.

Felicity shrugged. "She couldn't say. She just said, 'You have to' and then she stopped speaking."

Oliver raised his eyebrows and Felicity gulped. "She stopped breathing. On the phone."

Oliver closed his eyes and got up suddenly, and started to pace beside the bed, looking down at her. "She died on the call with you?"

Felicity nodded, sitting up and looking at him, hesitating.

He knew her way too well apparently. "What else, Felicity?"

Felicity looked him in the eyes, and bit her lip. "There was someone else there. A man. He didn't say anything but once the woman was gone he came on the line and he started breathing. Just breathing. Nothing else. I got freaked out so I cut the call then."

Oliver leaned over her suddenly, looming over her, his arms trapping her on the bad and his face so very close, his eyes so very angry. "And you couldn't call me and tell me this?"

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him, tilting her head. "To what end? What could you have done except worry, that I couldn't already do? I tried to trace the number but I couldn't so I set up some programs which are running right now and I'll have an alert as soon as they get a hit. Till we don't have the number traced, there is nothing we can do. And you were busy."

Oliver pushed away from the bed again, huffing in frustration and running his hands through his hair.

Looking at his tensed body, Felicity slowly got down from the bed and walked to him, coming to stand right before him. She took a hold of his face in her hands, feeling his stubble tickle her palms just the way she liked it, and made him look at her, seeing the slightly crazed look he got every time she was remotely on the line. The big dummy. 

"I told you everything right now, didn't I?" she spoke quietly, looking him right in his blue, blue eyes. "Whoever it is, and whatever this was, we'll figure it out. We always do. Okay?"

Oliver looked down at her for long moments, before the breath left him in a loud exhale and he leaned his forehead against hers, pulling her closer to him by the waist. "Okay."

She smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Good. Now come to bed. It's been a long day."

She turned to leave when he picked her up, making the breath whoosh out of her, and deposited her on the bed swiftly, leaning over her, planting small kisses on her neck, his hands already removing her t-shirt.

"There is only one thing I am scared of, Felicity," Oliver whispered softly into her skin, murmuring the words against her flesh.

She knew. She didn't have to say it.

So, she pulled his head up and cradled him in her arms, joining their mouths together and kissing him with reckless abandon, slowly letting him settle his hips between her spread legs, feeling him slide home, and forgot everything but his name for a few hours as he started to move.

 

                                      ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Her tablet pinging against the bedside table had her opening one eye and peeking at the annoying device.

The clock beside it told her it was only 7 in the morning and it was a freaking Sunday. She _never_ woke up at 7 on a Sunday.

The grumble behind her ear agreed with that emotion and Felicity stretched out one bare arm, barely able to move because of the way Oliver had wrapped himself around her and pinned her to himself during the night.

"Felicity," he grumbled in his rough morning voice again and she shushed him, finally taking a hold of her tablet and shutting the sound off.

"I swear I'll throw that thing out if you sleep with it again," he whispered from beside her and she gave him a smirk, opening the apps.

"You'd be out right with it in that case, baby," she shot back in a sing-song voice.

Oliver growled at her softly, the sound turning her on as always, and pulled at her hips, but her attention went to the programs she had running. They had results for her. They had traced the call to a warehouse in the east Glades. Looked like their Sunday wasn't going to be that leisurely after all.

Pressing a swift kiss to his lips, she slid out of the bed, wrapping a robe around her body, just as he sighed loudly. "This breaks the Sunday ritual, Felicity."

She grinned slightly at his grumpy tone. "I'll be back in just a while and we'll make up. Go back to sleep, okay?"

Oliver nodded, his body apparently tired from running on slight fumes for the past few days and pulled her pillow to him as she smiled and went out, taking her tablet and phone with her.

She headed towards her office, which had been upgraded twice in the last two years, each time with newer technology, courtesy of her husband. She remembered the first time she had argued about paying for it while he had too, they had both come to the realization that they were married and their finances were basically the same. That was the time they had made a joint account and even then, Oliver had urged her to keep a separate one just for herself, just in case something ever happened to him and she had to take care of things. She still hated the matter-of-fact way he had said it, but she knew better than anyone that he had been right. They both knew just how dangerous it was everyday. Oliver more, because he experienced it first-hand. Anyhow, she had gotten an upgrade and she loved how at home she felt working there. 

She saw Raisa making breakfast in the kitchen and greeted her, just as Digg came in, in his casual gym clothes, ad she grinned. He was still the hulk dipped in caramel she had seen all those years ago at her house. Only, he was more of a brother now, a big brother, than anything else. Digg, over the past two years, had become even more protective of her. He said it was to keep Oliver sane and in turn, keep everyone else sane. But she knew he loved her to pieces, and he had become one of those men she trusted implicitly, apart from Oliver.

"You are up early," DIgg noted, looking her up and down. "Rough night?"

Felicity flushed at the teasing tone in his voice and shook her head. "Just some work."

"On a Sunday morning?" Digg asked, doubtful.

Felicity narrowed her eyes. "And that coming from the man who left Lyla to go work out?"

Digg shook his head, smirking, and went to take some coffee, leaving Felicity to proceed to the office. Lyla was Digg's ex-wife slash current girlfriend. Felicity had had no idea he had even been married but Oliver had and the secret romantic he was at heart, he had invited Lyla, who had been working in private security, to a club party and let the chips fall where they may. Both Digg and Lyla had reconnected and they had been together for almost a year now, taking it slow, happy in their relationship.

Felicity sat down behind her computer, and looked around, seeing the sunlight filtering in through the sheer curtains blowing in the wind, the windows open to let the fresh morning breeze in. Opening the system, she let the trace run one more time and then borrowing the cameras from around the place, she started checking to see anything from around the time she had gotten the call.

She felt her eyes droop a little, looking at the same screens over and over again, when the smell of musk and wood wafted across to her and two strong hands gripped her shoulders, massaging them softly, rubbing any kinks out, eliciting a low moan from her.

"What are you doing up?" Felicity asked on a breathy sigh, tilting her head back to give Oliver better access, and heard his soft voice speak to her.

"You know I don't sleep well without you," he said, his thumbs rubbing over her collar bone, his fingers wrapped all around her shoulder blades. "What are you watching?"

Felicity took a hold of his hand, tilting her head back to see him upside down from her vantage. "I got a hit on the trace. I'm checking the cameras in the area to see if anything happened to help us track down who was there."

Oliver nodded, leaning down over her, kissing her softly on her lips, the upside down angle making her head spin a little. She took a hold of his face as he leaned over the chair completely, resting his arms on the table in front of her, his stubble rasping against her mouth as she took a hold of his lower lip between hers and opened her mouth, letting him penetrate it with his tongue. The upside down kiss was reminding her of Spiderman, and her brain went down a tangent that made her giggle softly against his lips, making him pull back a bit with a slightly exasperated, slightly amused look in his eyes. 

"Do I want to know?" he murmured looking down at her, the amusement in his voice clear. 

She blinked the dizziness away, giving him a lopsided grin. "Probably not."

Chuckling, he leaned back in, making her head tilt way back and her neck strain and suddenly, the bout of dizziness intensified, making her gasp and straighten, small stars dancing in front of her eyes. 

"Felicity?" she heard Oliver's concerned voice come from behind her as she gripped the table to steady herself. 

"I'm fine," she laughed out, shaking the stars off. "I think you made me see stars with a kiss."

His concerned frown didn't leave his face and Felicity started to speak just as something on the screen flickered in her periphery. She turned to the monitor, the playfulness from a moment ago forgotten, and saw a shadow move beside the warehouse, right before she got the call. She zoomed and cleared and enhanced but the shadow remained unclear. 

Oliver took his phone out and spoke softly in Russian, his voice commanding. Felicity glanced up at him then got back to try to get something else from the footage. 

For almost an hour, they worked in silence- Oliver coordinating something over the phone, mostly speaking in Russian with snippets of English in between, and Felicity scrubbing the footage frame by frame to figure just something out. 

After an hour, Oliver sighed and stood up. "The men have searched the entire warehouse," he informed her.

Felicity leaned forward in her chair. "Did they find her? Was she there?"

He shook his head before she was done speaking, his own disappointment evident in his eyes. "Not only was she not there, there were no signs of anyone having been there in the last few months at all. There wasn't any blood. Nothing at all."

Felicity closed her eyes in frustration, remembering the woman's dying voice haunt her, remembering her words.

She looked at Oliver and spoke with a weird sense of urgency, an odd sense of foreboding assaulting her. "Oliver, that woman spent her last breath trying to call me and warn me of something. We need to find out what she was speaking of."

"We will," Oliver assured her with utmost confidence in his voice, and pressed a kiss to her head. "But right now, you need to go, freshen up and have some breakfast and I'll make some calls in the meantime."

Felicity nodded and stood up on slightly unsteady legs, walking out of the office with Oliver right behind her.

Oliver headed to the kitchen and she took the stairs to the bedroom, her mind spinning with thoughts about the mysterious woman and what she could possibly have meant. She went to the bathroom to take a shower, checking on her calendar for any appointments in the week, when a small red flag at the bottom of the screen had her stopping in front of the sink, her blood freezing.

Her heart started pounding.

A red flag. A literal red flag.

She looked up from the phone, at her own reflection, her lips parted as everything in the past few days fell into place, making an eerie kind of sense.

The bad taste of coffee, the slight dizziness, the fatigue, the desire to not eat. The _missing period._

Her period had been due last week. And Felicity had never been more than a day late in her entire life.

Her eyes traveled down her body, lingering on her breasts, trying to see any changes at all, before landing on her stomach.

Her completely flat stomach, with just a hint of it;s normal roundness. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But she knew. Without anything but instinct, she knew.

She was pregnant.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? 
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. 
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
> TUMBLR : [supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com](http://supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com/)  
> TWITTER : [@dorky06](http://twitter.com/Dorky06/)


	3. Stoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> Thanks so much for the absolutely wonderful response to the story! You all are so amazing! :)
> 
> Here is the new chapter. Stuff happens. Enjoy!
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts! I live hearing from you! 
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Oliver was watching her over the rim of his coffee mug, the small lines on his forehead and the slight furrow of his brow seeming very, very amplified to her because she was having a major internal freak out, the kind she hadn't had since her father and Anatoly had told her she had to marry Oliver, which at the time, had been a warrant of doom and gloom to her. 

Not that this was a warrant of doom or gloom. In fact, she was, after she had come to terms with it, happy. Sort of. Except it was only intuition for now. Mother's intuition. Oh boy.

She was freaking out because she had to tell Oliver. Well, she could always not tell him, but she was pretty sure he would know in a few months and lose his marbles. Unless she ran away. But why would she? And what was wrong with her?

Okay. Deep breaths.

For the last three days, she had been acting weird. She knew she had been acting weird but she hadn't been doing it on purpose. It was just natural, being weird. But what could anyone expect when she had a bun in the oven, possibly, and the bread maker had no idea he had put it there. Well, he knew he put it there, only he didn't know it was cooking. And it was just like her brain to think of that analogy.

She had fixed an appointment with her gynecologist in the city, and in a few hours, she would know for sure.

Felicity could have known for sure anytime in the past three days as well, but for some reason, she hadn't had the courage to go to a drugstore and buy herself a test, especially with someone always tailing her. She couldn't afford for Oliver to even suspect anything till she knew for sure. But keeping something from him was not in her system. Hence, the freak out. And observant as he was, he knew something was off with her. Or on. Depending on how you put it.

Shaking off her thoughts, she blinked back at him innocently, giving him the big eyes she knew from experience melted him, and saw his lips twitch a little, because he knew she was using it deliberately. Even after so long, they never really tired themselves of this, as she liked to call it, _'He knew, She knew'_ game, where they both knew what the other was doing, knowing that the other knew about it, and the layers of these knowledge only stimulated them more somehow.

Oliver took a sip of his coffee, his crisp white shirt folded at the sleeves already and it was just barely morning, keeping his eyes on hers, his elbows on the table, in a way that always made butterflies dance in her tummy like this was a first date. Well, the butterflies most likely had company now.

"Would you like to tell me what has you driving me absolutely crazy the last few days?" he asked quietly, slightly amused, slightly worried, pulling off the combination with panache.

Felicity grinned, knowing that the only lie she could say was one of omission. "Why would I? I like driving you crazy."

His eyes heated a bit and he shook his head. "Let me rephrase that. Would you like to tell me what has you being crazy for the past few days?"

Felicity widened her eyes deliberately. "Tsk, tsk. You should know not to call you wife crazy, Mr. Queen. Not this early in the day."

He just raised an eyebrow, an annoying eyebrow that made her want to spill. Didn't he know how badly she wanted to freak out, _externally?_ Actually he didn't.

"What is going on, Felicity?" he asked seriously. "I am assuming it has nothing to do with that phone call because you would have told me."

"Obviously, I would have."

Oliver frowned a bit but before he could say anything, his phone buzzed and he looked down, sighing. Getting up, he finished his coffee in a go, and rounded the high table, to right where she sat in her pajamas, stepping in between her legs and pulling her by the waist. 

His clear blue eyes looked down at her face, with so much love and exasperation, she smiled. 

"You know I will know, right?" he asked, his face almost near hers.

Felicity smiled. "I know."

Oliver pecked her lips once, murmuring softly. "You drive me crazy."

She pulled on his shirt. "You love it."

"I wonder why." 

She smacked him on the arm and he chuckled against her mouth, settling it more comfortably over hers, giving her a long, languid kiss for the day, holding her face in his hands like he loved. He pulled back after minutes, making her chase his mouth, and smiled.

"I have a meeting in the evening so I'll be a bit late," he whispered, pecking her lips again. "Don't wait up for me, okay?"

He always said that. She always fell asleep waiting.

Nipping at his lips, she blinked up at him. "I have a doctor's appointment today."

He pulled back suddenly, concern marring his face. "Everything alright?"

No. "Yes."

He looked closer at her and she sighed. "It's just a regular checkup." 

Oliver searched her face before nodding and kissing her one more time, the pulled away, picking up his phone and leaving. 

Felicity looked at the time, hopping down from the stool and walked up to the room, to get ready for her appointment. 

 

* * *

  

Since she was feeling antsy and the appointment was for 4, Felicity came to the mall on her way, deciding to shop for some stuff before, to cool herself down, and to think.

As she walked by the stores, gazing in the windows, without Roy, she thought of why she hadn't told Oliver yet.

She knew it wasn't because she was afraid he didn't love her. No, if she was certain of one thing, she was certain of that.

But Oliver came from a past that was filled with bloodshed. His own parents had been brutally murdered before his very eyes and he had to get that blood on his own hands at a very young age to protect both himself and Thea. Felicity knew he was the most amazing big brother to Thea, the best brother anyone could hope to have, the kind of brother Digg was be to her in a lot of ways, only probably much, much more magnified because of their history and their bond. Felicity knew that Oliver had a heart with so much love and protectiveness towards something he cherished infused in his blood. She knew that their child, if she indeed was pregnant, which she most likely was, would want for nothing- not with them as parents.

But as she gazed blankly at the windows, nerves attacked her because they had never really talked about about it. For so long after their marriage, they had worked to find their own footing, worked to make themselves stronger via each other, worked on finally being in a good place together that a child had never entered the picture then. And after that, it just hadn't. The most they had spoken had been in terms of some distant future. And hence, she felt like the biggest walking, talking cliche of all times.

Seriously, how the hell had her pill failed her and let his soldiers conquer? She had always thought that when they had a baby, it would all be planned. And while she was slowly warming to the idea, of the idea of being a mother (which still freaked her out) she hadn't told Oliver because she didn't know if he was ready to be a father.

And that was the problem.

She knew Oliver would never ask her to give their child up. He'd rather cut his own arm off than do that. It just wasn't in his system. Oliver would accept the child completely. But would it be enough? She didn't want their baby to be a thing of acceptance. She didn't want to live with the man she loved knowing he was raising their child but not as happily as he would have some other time. She didn't want the man who loved her to look at her and slowly see her as a woman who made him feel trapped somehow. She had seen too many movies and read too many books to know how real a possibility this was. It wouldn't happen in a day, or a month, or a year. But over time, slowly.

Their love had thrived for two years. Would it survive so many more if he wasn't ready?     

Inhaling deeply, she shook her thoughts off and entered the store, looking at dresses just like that. She wandered the store, her eyes flitting from one dress to another, when they fell upon a silver shimmer dress, short and backless. Walking up to it, she picked it out and stood in front of the mirror, testing the dress with her complexion, when suddenly, her eyes fell on a man outside the door. He stood looking towards the right, completely inconspicuous in dark clothes and a cap over his head and the dark glasses, but something about him rose her hackles. Still keeping her eyes surreptitiously on him, she observed him, and saw it- a tiny camera that looked like a cell phone, and she only knew this because the tech was something she was very, very familiar with. The ass was clicking her pictures. 

She really shouldn't have fought Roy into coming alone. But she had wanted to be completely on her own for the appointment.

Breathing deeply, she ducked behind a row of dresses and pulled her phone out, peeking just a bit towards the window, her vantage point allowing her to look out and see the man but not vice versa. Quickly clicking a couple of snaps, she put her phone back in her back, purchased the dress and walked out the other door, ducking in to the elevator beside the ladies room, going right down to the parking. It was close to the time anyways. 

Getting in the car, the red Mercedes she had chosen when Oliver had insisted on a safer car almost more than a year ago, customized with bullet proof glass, she put the bag in the back seat and and turned the ignition on, backing out of the place and hitting the road in seconds, constantly checking her rear-view to see if the man had followed her. He hadn't. 

Once on the road towards the hospital, Felicity relaxed and turned on the music, mulling over the phone call and the man, days apart. It couldn't be a coincidence. Could he have been the man she had heard on the phone? The thought made a slight shiver run through her, but it confused her as well. Why her? Did it have something to do with the Bratva? Felicity was not unaware that as Oliver's wife and Anatoly's almost daughter, she was a juicy little target for their many enemies. Retaliation, retribution, it could all come by hurting her. 

Felicity knew that. She also knew there had been many threats made against her that never reached her ears over the years. The only reason she even knew they had been made was simply because of Oliver's behavior. The moment someone even mentioned her, even lightly, he would go crazy protective over the next few days, till she told him it got stifling. They would fight a bit and he would notch it down a bit and she would tolerate it a bit. But not once since Ilyich had anyone ever contacted her directly. And it wouldn't have bothered her so much had it not been for that woman. Listening to her struggle for breaths, listening to her die while trying to tell her something of grave importance, and it had to be of grave importance obviously, had shaken Felicity. And that's why she was confused. This was not a normal let's-threaten-her-because-she-is-a-Queen, run-of-the-mill thing. No. This was something more. And not knowing was making her antsier. 

She reached the hospital in time, thanks to almost no traffic, and parked the car, pushing the man and the call to the back of her mind. 

One thing at a time. 

Releasing a breath loudly, she entered the doors and took the elevator up to the 14th floor, where her gynecologist's office was located, and stepped out in the pristine, blue and white lobby that smelled all clinical, like a hospital. She hated hospital smells. 

Her heels clicking on the linoleum floor with each step, she looked at the assistant sitting outside in an open cubicle, who nodded Felicity in with a smile. Taking a deep breath, Felicity entered the office and shut the door behind her. 

The tall, dark-haired woman, with gorgeous mocha skin that almost glowed every time Felicity saw her, in her late forties, Dr. Ally Nelson, looked up at Felicity and smiled. Her mother, Donna, had been Dr. Nelson's first patient, and over the years, she had recommended a number of women to her, including her own daughter. And she had been right because along with being a great doctor, Dr. Nelson had a very keen instinct about people. Felicity had noticed it very early in their initial appointments. The first time Felicity had visited her, Dr. Nelson had smiled kindly and told her that her body would not give her many period troubles except a few bad cramps now and then. She had been correct. And if there was anyone Felicity wanted checking on her now, it was she.  

"Ah, Felicity," Dr. Nelson got up from her chair, coming to embrace her in a hug. "It's been long. I was so happy to see your name on the list today."

Felicity hugged her back, setting her bag on the table and wringing her hands, looking her in the eyes. 

"I know. It has been long. I hope you are doing well. And your kids are doing well. And speaking of kids, I think I'm pregnant," she blurted out without warning and then flushed. 

Dr. Nelson raised her eyebrows at her non-stop words, switching to her professional self in a second and taking her seat, gesturing for Felicity to take hers. "Why would you think that?"

Felicity inhaled deeply. "Well, for one my period is late by a week, and I am almost never late, not this late anyways. I don't feel like eating a lot, but I get these real hunger pangs sometimes and the coffee tastes awful one day and fine the next, and my head spins sometimes when my husband kisses me. Though it always used to. A bit. He is a really good kisser so I can maybe blame it on that..."

Felicity shut up, turning bright red at her own words and the little amusement in the older woman's eyes. 

"Have you been taking your pill on time?"

Felicity nodded. "Yes. I haven't missed any at all. And before you ask, no I wasn't sick so that didn't mess with the pills. That's mostly how they do it in the romance novels I read sometimes."

Dr. Nelson nodded. "And how has your sex life been recently?"

Her face was on fire. "Normal," she muttered.

"Which is what? Once, twice, thrice a week?"

That was normal? Seriously? 

She swallowed, feeling like she was speaking to the school principal for a moment after having done something wrong. Which she hadn't. Having sex with your husband was absolutely fine.

She shrugged casually like people asked her about her sex life all the time. "Once a day." At least. But she didn't need to know that. 

Dr. Nelson nodded again, without gasping like Felicity was afraid she would do. Scandalizing a gynecologist was so not on her priority list. 

Getting up and handing Felicity a stick, she spoke. "It's possible that the pill failed. It's rare but it happens, mostly with couples who have very healthy sexual lives. But we don't know anything for sure yet, so go pee on it and come out, and I'll get some blood work ready."

Felicity nodded and slipped into the attached washroom, quickly taking care of business and coming out with the stick. 

Dr. Nelson drew some blood from her as well and put it in tiny little tubes, nodding at Felicity while they waited for the stick to show the results. 

The wait was killing her. 

"What do you think, Dr. Nelson?" Felicity asked, rocking her feet in nervousness. "Honestly, what does your gut say?"

Dr. Nelson smiled. "I think that we can wait for a few moments to know."

Felicity harrumphed and sat back, just as the doctor looked down at the stick, then back up at her, smiling. "Congratulations are in order."

Felicity stilled, her entire body on the edge of her chair, her heart beating madly at the confirmation of what she had known. So, his soldiers _had_ beat medicines and put their victory flag in. 

She closed her eyes and exhaled, her hand automatically going to her flat, naturally rounded stomach, breathing in and out. She was going to have a baby. Oliver's baby. Their baby. 

Biting her lip, she looked back at the doctor and asked, her voice trembling. "How pregnant am I?"

The older woman smiled, her dark eyes glinting. "I'll know for sure once the blood tests are done. I'll call you as soon as I know."

Felicity nodded, the shock of the realization making her slightly numb one second and ecstatic the next.

"You are happy with the result, aren't you, Felicity?"

Dr. Nelson's concerned voice had Felicity look up and blink. "Yes. It's just so sudden. I'm wrapping my head around it."

"I know it can be a lot, but trust me, having a complete family is a blessing not everyone has."

Didn't she know it. Getting up and setting an appointment for next week, Felicity walked back to her car in a sort of trance, checking her phone to see if she had missed anything. Oliver had texted saying he'd be home earlier. Good.

She had to tell him tonight. Making her way home, she tried to clear her mind and gather her courage, quelling down all her doubts and repeating on a loop that he loved her and he was a good man and he would love their child. Coming from damaged families themselves, she knew they would not repeat their histories. No doubts at all. 

Seeing the mansion gates up ahead made her stomach knot with both anxiety and anticipation, and she didn't know which was greater at the moment. Driving up the long way in, she parked her car in the garage, and went in, nodding to Roy and Thea on her way to her office. Seeing them together, so committed to each other, made her happy. Though sometimes it did get too much with Thea's working hours at the club and Roy with Felicity, they made it work and Felicity loved that about them. So, when she saw them having such small moments together, it made her not regret not having to take Roy with her.

Shaking off her thoughts, she closed the door to her office and sat down in her chair, looking at her phone again.

 

 _ **Oliver** _ : **_Meeting cancelled. Will be home earlier than expected. Don't wait for me for dinner._**

 

She typed out a reply to him.

 

**Felicity : _Okay. I'm back home._**

 

His reply came almost immediately.

 

**Oliver : _How did the appointment go?_**

 

Well, she definitely had news on that account. Heart beating faster, she replied.

 

**Felicity : _It was okay. I got a needle._**

 

**Oliver : _Ouch. I'll come and kiss it better._**

 

She melted. That was why she loved this man, because even though he stitched his own gaping wounds without a curse, he got genuinely bothered if she even got a prick from a needle.

 

**Felicity : _That's what I kept telling myself too._**

 

**Oliver : _No wonder I married you._**

 

Felicity grinned. He somehow still managed to make her giddy when he flirted like this with her.

 

**Felicity : _For my brain?_**

 

**Oliver : _Among other things._**

 

**Felicity : _Like?_**

 

**Oliver : _Like how about I show you and not talk about it with four of my men looking very seriously at me?_**

 

A laugh escaped her, imagining the blank face everyone else must be seeing right now.

 

**Felicity : _What do they think you are doing?_**

 

**Oliver : _Texting another guy about a deal. But Digg is smirking. I think he knows._**

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

**Felicity : _Digg always knows._**

 

**Oliver : _He's been with me way too long. I have to go now. See you home. :*_**

 

**Felicity : _See you home. :*_**

 

Shaking her head, she sighed and transferred her photos of the man to the system, and started running them through her facial recognition. She let it run, tweaking things here and there, trying to clarify the images. Raisa came in between with dinner on a tray and Felicity thanked her, slowly eating the food, keeping her eyes on the screen. 

After a few hours, her own nerves neither settled nor distracted, she got up with a sigh, letting the search run over night and connecting it to her tab, and left the office, closing the door behind her. 

Walking down the corridor, she saw Digg pass and smiled at him. "He back?"

Digg nodded. "In the study."

"Thanks."

Digg tilted his head at her, his eyes seeing way too much. "You okay?"

Felicity frowned at that. "Yeah, why?"

Digg shrugged. "He asked me if I'd noticed you acting strange the last few days. Matter of fact, I had. And since he asked, I realized it wasn't a lovers quarrel."

Felicity sighed, rubbing her head. "Well, there is a reason. Which I am pretty sure you'll know about very soon. But nothing you need to worry about."

Digg nodded seriously. "If you say so. But know I've got your back."

Suddenly feeling teary at his words, Felicity instinctively wrapped her arms around his middle in a tight hug, feeling him wrap his huge arms back, making her feel so safe. Digg's hugs were incomparable. She loved Oliver's hugs but Digg had a hug all of his own. Even Roy did. The men in her life.

She pulled back, blinking rapidly and Digg smiled, bidding her a good night.

Nodding to herself, Felicity walked to Oliver's study and entered without knocking, a habit she had developed after he told her not to, and closed the door behind her.

This study had not changed a single bit in the years at all. Except Oliver's old desk. Apparently it hadn't been as sturdy as Oliver had thought and they had both fallen down in a mass of limbs, and laughed like crazy over the incident. When the new desk had come in, Thea had looked at the old one's splintered pile and wrinkled her nose, muttering an "Ew, Ollie" and left. Roy had just coughed and Digg had grinned so wide Felicity flushed even now remembering it. Anyhow, the new desk had been installed and it was definitely sturdy enough. They had tested it thoroughly.

And this room. It had become their place of truth, of sorts. Oliver had told her about her father in this room, then told her he wanted her to leave when she had been shot in this room, making her confront him here. The Cooper confrontation happened here as well. This room had a memory of them talking, truthfully. And it seemed like fate wanted her to tell him here.

The room was bathed in muted lights now as Oliver stood near the huge windows, looking out at the stormy sky, his suit jacket thrown on the couch with the tie and the sleeves folded over his arms. Felicity's heart started pounding when he turned as she entered, a soft smile replacing the hard look on his face. But his eyes narrowed upon seeing her standing there, shuffling her feet and biting her lip, both signs that something was going on.

"солнышко?"

Okay. Show time.

"So," she began, watching him and letting her mouth open, her nervousness making her heart pound. "I had my doctor's appointment today, like I told you. And you know what I realized when I was there? That we have a lot of sex. Which is not normal by normal standards by the way. Just saying." 

Oliver frowned, completely baffled by the looks of him. "So, the doctor told you not to have so much sex?"

Felicity's eyes widened as she shook her head furiously. "No. She didn't say anything at all. In fact it was more implied that said."

"Okay," Oliver said, dragging out the word in that patient way of his when he waited for her to talk. 

Her hands shook a bit and she clenched them into fists, her body turning hot. "I went to see the doctor because I am late for my period."

Oliver nodded, not surprised at all. "I know."

Felicity frowned at that, her brows furrowing. "What do you mean you know?"

He sighed. "You are my wife, солнышко. My wife with whom I have very frequent sex with. So, obviously, I know your cycle."

He knew her cycle. Wow. She'd never thought of that, but it wasn't surprising because he was very observant. 

Oliver erased the distance between them, stepping closer to her, his hands taking hold of her arms, his eyes concerned. 

"Is something wrong, Felicity?"

Felicity blinked up at him, saw his beautiful face, the deep, clear eyes, and felt her heart hammer in her chest. Telling him would change things. For better or worse, she didn't know. 

She saw Oliver's eyes widen as his grip on her arm tightened. "Felicity, what did the doctor say? Is something wrong?"

She felt his panic and closed her eyes, knowing she couldn't let him think that way, knowing she couldn't let him imagine so many bad things. She couldn't. She had to tell him. 

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then what is it?"

But for the life of her, she couldn't open her eyes, couldn't see his face. What if he was disappointed? She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she even saw a flash of it pass through his eyes. 

So, keeping her eyes closed, she gathered all the courage inside her, her body trembling a bit and spoke softly into the space between them. 

"I am pregnant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? 
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. 
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
> TUMBLR : [supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com](http://supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com/)  
> TWITTER : [@dorky06](http://twitter.com/Dorky06/)


	4. Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> So, I had laptop troubles last week, hence the no update. Thanks so much for being so patient with me and the story and oh my, the absolutely fantastic response to the last chapter. I can't tell you how happy I am that you all seem to be engrossed in the story as we get into it. Thank you! :)
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Enjoy. Some stuff happens. 
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line! I love hearing from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Felicity's breath stayed stuck in her throat, her ears rushing with blood as she let the words out, hanging in the space between them, the sound of thunder suddenly splitting the sky open roaring in the study as she waited for Oliver to react.

He stayed completely still, his gaze piercing hers, heavy with something she could not pin and it was scaring her.

Gulping, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, she muttered again.

"Oliver, I'm pregnant."

He blinked. 

She waited.

He blinked again.

She swallowed.

She should just have gone with her first idea and sent him a greeting card. Greeting cards didn't have stomachs that knotted at the lack of reactions.

When long minutes passed and he didn't do anything except the dang blinking, more than he usually did, she felt her stomach roil even more, and straightened her shoulders. Retreat. She should probably just step away and give him time to process this alone. Yup. Maybe he processed with excessive blinking the way she processed with ice cream. Not that she had ever noticed this before. Well, she had never been pregnant before too. 

Nodding to herself, she took a step back, and felt his grip tighten on her arms, keeping her captive right on the spot. Okay, then. Retreat was out. 

Suddenly, before she could panic some more, he lifted her up by the arms and deposited her on the table a few steps behind her, making her sit on the edge as he looked down at her face, his fingers like firm vices around her arms, long and warm, his musky scent wrapping around her as it raindrops splattered against the windows slowly, thunder rumbling outside, the muted lights in the study casting a soft, intimate glow all around them.

Heart pounding, she kept her eyes on him, reminding herself that he took time to process things and that was all this was. He was processing. And he sure needed an upgrade for the speed. 

His hands slowly loosened their grip on her arms, sliding down to her elbows, going to her wrist and finally, settling on her waist as his blue, blue eyes stayed on hers, unwavering in their intensity that still knocked the breath out of her, even after all this time.

Extending one arm, she saw him roll the chair over behind him and saw him sit down, confusion at his actions filling her but she kept quiet, letting him do whatever he was. It was way better than the statue imitation he had going on for a while. 

He sat down on the chair, spreading her legs, so her feet rested at the sides, and settled his torso in between, making her heart pound harder as she waited with bated breath for his next move.

Finally letting go of her gaze, his eyes going to her stomach, at level with his face at that height, he pushed her dress up, bunching it under her breasts, and exposed her midriff and her flowery underwear to his piercing eyes.

Felicity had absolutely no idea what he was going to do next, and the anticipation, the anxiety, was twisting in her gut rapidly as she looked down at his face, seeing his eyes riveted on to her stomach.

And then he leaned forward and planted the softest of kisses right below her belly button.

Felicity's heart stopped, her eyes closing as relief rushed over her, a tremulous smile lifting her lips.

She felt his lips brush the skin again, and she opened her eyes, looking down at his head as he planted soft, soft kisses repeatedly at the same spot, slaying all the doubts in her head to the ground, his lips brushing over her soft skin being all the reaction she needed.

"Oliver..."

"Shh," he shushed her as soon as she began, his mouth never leaving her stomach, his hands holding the sides of her waist almost reverently.

Leaning her head, she saw the way his eyes were closed, savoring the moment, an expression of such peace on his face, her eyes moistened for no reason, and she slid a hand over his head, cupping the back of his skull, loving the way it felt against her small palm, feeling his soft, short hair brush over her fingers in a familiar way that still enthralled her.

They stayed that way for long minutes, not speaking, not moving, his head against her stomach, laving small kisses all over her midriff as she kept her hand on his head, looking down at him, at his acceptance, his silent joy, celebrating what they had created together without words, the sounds of rain and distant thunder and the clock ticking being the only sounds in the room. 

Finally, she didn't know after how long, Oliver looked up, tilting his head back to lock their gazes together, his eyes luminous with moisture and pulled her face down with one hand, resting their foreheads together. Felicity felt his warm breath over her face, and tightened her grip over the back of his neck, letting him just breathe, absorb whatever he wanted to absorb from her, letting him settle whatever thoughts were racing through the labyrinth that was his mind.

Oliver pulled back after a few moments, looking up at her with that same intensity, his face completely blank, and demanded quietly.

"Tell me again."

Felicity felt a grin chase her mouth. There he was.

She looked back at him, assured now, deep in her bones, that this was good news and a thrill shot down her spine as she embraced it completely, with him.

"I'm pregnant."

He stood up the second the words were out, making her tilt her head way back in surprise, hiking her legs around his waist as he gripped her hair in a firm hold and slanted his mouth over hers roughly, almost bruising, their teeth gnashing as he opened her mouth with his tongue, kissing her deeply, the softness from a second ago pushed back by whatever intensity he was feeling. Felicity gripped his shoulders in surprise at the suddenness of it, pulling him closer instinctively and hooking her legs around him, the table cool under her butt, his body warm against hers, his mouth completely untamed on hers. 

And then the kiss became a paradox, like her husband.

While he plundered her mouth over and over again, feasting on her lips and meshing their tongues, the electricity between them leaving her breathless and leaving her heart hammering as usual, his other hand settled over her stomach, tenderly, his entire palm covering her flesh right above the pelvic bone, his thumb caressing her skin almost soothingly as he kept kissing her like he was at the end of a rope she was tethering, his hand on her abdomen moving in contrast like he had all the time in the world.

She was truly confounded by this man sometimes. But dang, he could kiss.

Their lips parted sloppily and he pulled back, looking down at her with that same emotion that was the theme for the night.

"Felicity," he whispered and her breath hitched, her stomach fluttering. God, she loved the way he spoke her name. Most of the times. Not when they were fighting. It annoyed her then- not the way he said it, her own reaction to it.

"Oliver," she replied, shaking off her thoughts, feeling the blood rush to her lips, the skin around her mouth tingling deliciously from the friction with his scruff.

"What has the doctor said about sex?"

Felicity blinked at the unexpected question, not understanding for a second before her brain kicked in.

"Nothing yet. She'll call me tomorrow with the details," she told him and saw him nod, trying to take a step back. Nuh-uh. 

She tightened her legs around him, raising her eyebrows because it was the end of the day, she was on a very sturdy, previously tested table, they were both hot and heavy and had kissed like foreplay, and they had to celebrate. He was not going anywhere. 

Oliver gave her a stern look, not budging an inch closer.

She hated his strength sometimes. She gave him the look as well. 

"We are not going any further tonight, Felicity," he stated firmly and Felicity hiked her eyebrows higher, giving him her patent look over her glasses.

"And pray tell, why?" she demanded, ignoring the way her legs were aching from being hooked around his waist without support since he was trying to get away from her. A few years ago, it would have made her even more conscious. Now, it just frustrated her. 

"Because your doctor hasn't told you you can have sex."

Seriously?

"She hasn't told me I can't," Felicity shot back. 

Oliver was shaking his head before she was even done, his stupid stubborn jaw tight. "I am not having sex with you till the doctor says it's safe."

"I'm hardly pregnant enough for that yet, Oliver," Felicity argued dryly. 

His jaw worked even more as he tried to control himself. "You're pregnant and that's enough for now."

"And who are you to decide that alone, mister?" Felicity asked, folding her arms over her chest. 

For the first time that night, Oliver smiled, his entire face lighting up. "I, солнышко, the father of your child."

Groaning, Felicity banged her head on his hard chest, grumbling. "You are so going to use that on me now, aren't you?"

She felt his chuckle in his chest as his hands slowly unwrapped her legs from around him, leaving them dangling above the floor. Felicity looked up at him, feeling her core tighten looking at his lips, a different kind of heat rushing through her blood, seeing his own eyes heat up slightly.

"It's hard for me too, Felicity," Oliver murmured and she felt herself smirk.

"Clearly."

He chuckled again, stepping back and breathing through his mouth. 

Felicity jumped down from the table like she usually did and felt him suddenly clamp his hands on her waist again, his eyes serious. 

"You have to be careful with the way you move now, Felicity."

She looked at him at his sharp tone, surprised and spoke carefully. "I know that, Oliver. You don't have to tell me."

"Then please don't jump like that again. You could fall."

Was he hearing himself right now?

Felicity pinned him with a look, her already frustrated body combining with her frustrated mind, slight anger simmering in her, taking her slightly aback.

"So, you'd basically prefer I stop walking for nine months and stay bed ridden since that's the only place I won't fall, if we go by your logic, right? Because I am prone to tripping over my feet sometimes when I walk," she said, her voice low.

Oliver leveled her with a look of his own. "Would I prefer that? Yes."

Disbelieving, Felicity pushed past him and walked out of the study as he called her name, heading up the stairs to the bedroom, the anger at his audacity just because he had donated half the chromosomes surprising her. She probably shouldn't have rushed out the way she had. 

Sighing, she entered the darkened bedroom without switching on the lights and whipped her dress off her head, quickly donning his t-shirt and sliding into the bed, turning over on her side, waiting for him, the raindrops hitting the bedroom window consistently, like tiny bullets of water pelting on the glass. 

She heard him enter the bedroom and shut the door then, heard the rustle of clothes as he undressed, heard the water running in the bathroom as he freshened up, and felt the bed dip as he got in.

His hand slowly slid over her waist as she stewed in her leftover anger, his muscular body completely covering her back, his legs tangling with hers as he pressed a small kiss to that spot behind her ear, the spot that made her gooey. Traitor. He never played fair. 

"It's not going to work, Oliver," she muttered out angrily and felt his breath on her neck as he kissed her again in silent apology and she sighed. 

"You can't go all caveman on me just because I am having a baby," she spoke quietly into the dark, feeling his hand tighten around her waist. "It's our baby, Oliver. Our. Not just yours or mine. Ours."

He stayed silent behind her for a long time, his breath warming her skin, their hearts beating in sync, as he just breathed and kept her close.

Slowly, his hand around her waist cupped her stomach, his palm engulfing the skin under the t-shirt as he quietly spoke, right next to her ear.

"The first time I ever thought about a child was when I was 20," he began, and Felicity stilled. Even after all this time, there were still many things in his past that he had buried so deep inside, she doubted he would ever speak about them again. But he was telling her something, and she kept silent, just letting him talk, her anger pushed back, listening.

"It was when Raisa once told me how great a father I would be because of the way I was with Thea," he continued in a distant tone. "I doubt she even realized she said it, but that was the first time that I thought of myself in the same context. And I didn't like what I saw, Felicity."

Confused, she turned her neck to look at him and saw that haunted look she saw on his face sometimes- sometimes when he would be thinking of something and staring off into the distance before catching her eye and coming back, exactly that same haunted look- his eyes lost in the past, pained at whatever memories he was carrying. Unable to help herself, she turned in his arms to face him, letting his hand slide to her spine and put her hand on his chest, right over his heartbeat, over his Bratva tattoo, feeling the steady rhythm that had become her basic life force.

"Why?" she asked softly, seeing the way his eyes were glued to some spot over her head, not meeting hers, seeing the ghosts of his past.

He opened his mouth, speaking again. "There was a boy that week who got caught in a crossfire. He was so young, so innocent. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with his father. They both were shot. I rushed to check on the boy and he was lying there, in a pool of his own blood, and he was looking right at me, his eyes so shocked, so terrified. And he took his last breath right there and I couldn't do a thing. Not a thing."

Felicity's eyes were heavy with tears from the pain in his voice, her heart aching for him, but she didn't interrupt, just tightened her hand over him as his own hand stroked her spine.

"How could I be a good father when I couldn't save an innocent child from his death? I have so much blood on my hands. How could these hands ever hold something that pure without tainting it? I knew that day, looking at the boy, that I'd never have a child of my own. I didn't deserve that."

Felicity swallowed, a small tear escaping the corner of her eye as she let him talk, her chest heavy from his brutal past, from the whitewashed version he was telling her, masking all the gory details she knew his mind was replaying in technicolor.

Oliver's eyes came to hers then, the hard, jaded look slowly transforming, looking at her with that soft, soft look he only reserved for her and Thea in his eyes, his hand never stopping in the stroking of her naked spine.

"Then I met you," he stated, shrugging slightly. "It was actually your father who made me realize some things, unknowingly."

Felicity frowned at that tidbit. Over the years, she had gradually forgiven her father, piece by piece, and let the resentment she had held for him go away, just accepting what had been, accepting the only good thing that had come out of that ordeal- Oliver. She was certain she couldn't have been half as forgiving as she had been had it not been for him. She probably wouldn't even be alive. 

His voice cut through her musings. "When I realized what your father had done, and when I confronted him, we had a talk. And it was enlightening because it made me realize that the two things I was most scared of happening won't happen."

"And what were they?" she asked, unable to contain herself any longer. 

Oliver smiled slightly, remembering. "I had already been in love with you by that point, Felicity. I knew how good, pure your heart was. And if you could grow up in a house full of men like your father and still come out the way you did, so could our child."

"Our child?" she raised her eyebrows. 

"I already knew that you were the only woman I'd ever have children with, солнышко," he spoke softly, making her heart flutter like it was yesterday and not years ago. "You were it for me."

How could the man make her heart stop even now, without even trying?

She snuggled closer to him, her ire completely forgotten, basking in the absolute love that radiated off him, and questioned. "And the second thing?"

His hand settled at the base of her spine, rubbing it tenderly. "The moment I knew what your father had done, I knew I'd rather have died than endanger my child," he stated. "It was actually like an epiphany, one that brought me great peace, because it made me realize the lengths I would have gone to in order to protect my daughter or son."

He slowly leaned forward, brushing his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss, making her heart tremble in that mushy way.

"Being with you, солнышко, loving you, makes me a better man. Being loved by you, it makes me feel like maybe I deserve that happiness."

Oh, this man.

"You do," she whispered, rubbing his chest over an old scar. 

He looked at her, the darkness casting his face in shadows as rain poured outside. "I'm sorry if I push you sometimes, Felicity. But I'll do everything to protect our child. Ours," he reiterated.

Felicity sighed, the argument seeming so distant now. "I know you will, Oliver. Just don't smother me, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

Suddenly, Felicity felt herself grin. "I wonder how I didn't get pregnant sooner, with the way we go at it. I mean two years is a long time. Especially given it was just a tiny pill keeping your soldiers away. Although now they are doing the victory dance probably. You know, I was reading this article before you came home about how sperms are..."

His lips cut her ramble off before she went off on another tangent entirely, just a soft, chaste kiss, lips to lips, his smile evident against her mouth.

He pulled away slightly, smiling, closing his eyes, breathing her in. "I am happy with you."

Felicity bit her lip, her heart bursting with love for this man. "I am happy with you too."

His smile widened before his mouth settled over hers better, the kiss slow, exploratory, languid. Felicity felt the blood slowly warm in her veins as her breasts got heavier, her spine arching to press herself into him wantonly, the tenor of the kiss changing to something urgent, wilder, his hand settling over her butt and his hips nestled right against her wet heat, only scraps of clothing separating them, her hand gripping his hair and his erection, feeling him hard right against her palm, biting his lip as she started feeling feverish, her blood getting hotter, pulse spiking.

Oliver's hand clasped over hers, bringing it to a stop as he pulled back, his breathing heavy and eyes darkened with lust.

"One night, baby," he growled against her lips, hanging onto reason, evident from his tone. "We'll know for sure tomorrow and think of something. Just one night."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

"I have no idea."

Giggling at his grumpy tone, Felicity laid back and Oliver chuckled, tugging her closer, letting her burrow into his chest as he burrowed his face in the crook of her neck, settling into their comfortable position. 

Felicity closed her eyes on a sigh, feeling suddenly tired from the day, a big yawn escaping her as she muttered a good night and let herself drift off to sleep, remembering the man at the mall in the back of her mind, making a note of telling Oliver about it tomorrow, letting herself rest for now. 

But right on the periphery, in the half asleep, half awake state, she felt him murmur something softly in her hair, his words ghosting over her, distant because she was slowly going under, her focus too blurred.

The last thing she remembered before giving in was his big hand settling over her stomach again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? 
> 
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	5. Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> Thanks so much for the amazing response to the last chapter. I am so glad you all liked Oliver's reaction to the pregnancy. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Smut alert. Also, there will be a few questions. Shoot them at me and be patient, they'll all come to fold. 
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts! I love hearing from you! 
> 
> Happy reading!!!

A tingling sensation woke her slightly, pulling her out of her deep sleep into just slight wakefulness, enough for her to languidly realize that the tingles were spreading on her thighs. Felicity shifted a bit, trying to get away from the tingles and back into the sleep that beckoned right on the periphery of her mind but something held her still as the tingles slowly increased.

Something was brushing against her thighs, something prickly but soft. Felicity shifted restlessly on the bed, when something softly caressed her inner thigh. The tingles increased in intensity and she tried to turn towards Oliver when her hands encountered warm but empty sheets and she finally opened her eyes. Just as she did, a warm, wet tongue swiped over her nether lips, and breath whooshed out of her, making her close her eyes again as pleasure shot to the tips of her toes. 

Blinking her eyes open once again, the last vestiges of sleep completely gone from her mind, she looked up at the mirror, seeing herself lying with his t-shirt bunched under her heaving breasts while Oliver sat near the foot of the bed, his face between her thighs, her legs thrown over his broad shoulders. 

She felt his fingers spread her as his tongue laved at her again, and her hands automatically went to his head, gripping the hair as her hips bucked to get closer to his mouth. 

"Not that I'm, ah, complaining at your welcome," she spoke, her voice still husky from sleep, his ravishing tongue interrupting her with soft licks and flicks over her sensitive skin. "But..."

He growled right against her sensitive folds and the hum from that one sound buzzed in her blood, spiking her pulse, sending her blood rushing through her veins. To hell with reasons. She gripped his hair harder, pulling his face closer to her as his tongue penetrated her, making her moan loudly in the dark room. 

Felicity looked around in confusion at that. The room was still dark. 

She remembered getting Oliver's call after dinner telling her that he was tied up, still out of town, and he'd be late coming home. She remembered turning the TV on and getting his t-shirt to wear as she waited. And then she remembered nothing. What time was it, anyways?

His mouth suddenly brought her attention back to the more important matters, and she sighed, relaxing back into the bed even as her body wound up tighter with every little lick of his tongue and nip of his teeth. Oliver, in all the years she had realized, was a very, very generous lover. Giving her pleasure, for some reason, was as much an aphrodisiac to him as giving him pleasure was to her. He would take her every which way he liked, in risque places that had her gasping with the thrill and in ways she couldn't even have fathomed, always, always, to bring her pleasure. She had stopped questioning it a long time ago, just enjoying what he gave as long as he did the same. 

But on nights that she fell asleep waiting for him, he always showered and snuggled in beside her, leaving out any pleasurable activities for the morning. Not tonight though, and that was why she was confused. Oliver was a creature of habit in a lot of ways and this was very new, very sudden. This was also not the time to question it apparently. 

He looked up at her for a second, his lips glistening from her essence and the sight aroused her all the more, her stomach contracting as her inner muscles clenched emptily. 

"Stop thinking," he uttered roughly, keeping his eyes on hers as he licked a long stripe over her and her back bowed.

"Oliver," she called out softly, her voice trembling along with her thighs, his shoulders wedging itself between them, keeping them open to his mouth as he softly tasted her. Her hips pushed towards him, needing something harder, faster, and not soft.

"Faster, Oliver," she pleaded, but he didn't increase his speed, driving her crazier as slow flames of pleasure licked along her skin.

His hands left her thighs, taking hold of her own hands that gripped his head, and he pushed them back, higher, placing them over her breasts. Her breath hitched as she felt her pebbled nipples against her own palms, his hands covering hers, squeezing her own hands over her breasts right as he pulled on her folds with his teeth, his tongue flicking over her small, aroused nub.

"Touch yourself for me, baby," he muttered into her flesh, his voice alone making her wetter, as his hands covered hers, urging her to touch herself like she wanted him to touch her.

Closing her eyes, Felicity tugged on her hard nipples, feeling the pleasure shoot straight to her groin where he assaulted her with his mouth, her head digging back into the pillow as her breathing increased. Their fingers entwined, both their hands playing with her breasts as his tongue pierced her, over and over and over again, devouring her like a man starved. Her feet dug into his back, her toes curling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, her orgasm surprising her in both intensity and its suddenness but he didn't stop, making love to her with his mouth while his hands took over her breasts, and another, softer, orgasm washed over her, surprising her yet again. 

Oliver kissed her inner thighs, biting them, his teeth leaving hickeys she knew would stay for a few days as her body relaxed into the bed, replete but not sated, not by a long shot, as she felt herself build up again. Kissing his way up her writhing body, he came up then, her legs still over his shoulders, his mouth an inch from hers, his eyes dark with heat and something more. 

She smelled herself on his mouth, saw his lips glisten with herself, and for some reason, it made her wetter, her walls pulsing with hunger for him. She felt his erection brush against her, once, twice, and her hips arched, wanting him, needing him, to satisfy the hunger in her flesh as only he could. 

He entered her slowly, his lips slanting over hers as well, and she felt her muscles clench around him as she tasted herself on his mouth, the act so carnal that it sent her pulse racing, so dirty that it made her feel wanton. He let her taste herself, let her tongue lick and lave his mouth as he moved inside her with increased pace, hitting her hard on every thrust, whimpers leaving her throat as she pulled on his hair, pulling him closer to her skin. They moved together with an intrinsic knowledge of each other's bodies ingrained in their senses, picked up over years of practice, and yet, she still felt that same tug in her core, in her heart as she had felt that first time, much, much stronger because of the said years.

They kissed and moved together, her hips flexing on every thrust of his, her walls convulsing with every plunge, her muscles contracting with every throb. She felt that mindless pleasure slowly build inside her with the friction, pleasure she had become addicted to, pleasure that still surprised her as he left her mouth, kissing her neck, leaving small bites over her shoulder, the t-shirt still on her body as his hands assailed her breasts, pulling and tugging, his huge body moving over her.

"Eyes on me, Felicity," he commanded savagely, and she fluttered them open, the hot, hot look in them making her walls quiver around him as he plunged inside her over and over again, his pace increasing, notching to another level.

 _"Mine,"_ he growled on a downward thrust that had her arching off the bed, her eyes on his as he stated the word possessively, his hand curving around her stomach.

"Both of you. Mine. _Only mine._ "

Felicity knew how possessive Oliver was of her, but he didn't state it, not like this, with that primal desperation chasing him, anymore. He had used to, in the beginning, but over the years, with reassurance and having her with him, it had become less frequent, only emerging when something made him feel threatened.

"Oliver?" she asked softly, confused as he kept thrusting, his eyes possessed by something she couldn't see.

He leaned closer, brushing her lips with his. "Just mine."

Something had happened. Felicity knew it in her gut.

She pulled him closer into her body, letting her hips cradle his desperation, letting him chase whatever he was chasing inside her, her eyes on his as she nodded.

"Just yours."

A rumbling sound left his chest as he suddenly increased his speed, his movements a blur and spiking her blood with so much heat so suddenly, she was hurling into a mind numbing climax before she could stop it, her body exploding in waves of pleasure as her eyes closed and hips bucked up into his thrusting, her nails digging into his biceps as a strangled cry left her lips. He didn't stop, burying his face into her neck as he moved and moved and moved, prolonging her orgasm, her walls spasming around him over and over again, her breasts smashed against his chest, his teeth tugging on her skin as he gave his hips free rein, the act turning brutal in its primitiveness from the soft love-making it had started as.

"Felicity," he murmured, her name a wisp against her skin, as he thrust in one final time, his own orgasm taking over his body, his hands gripping her hips hard as she felt him flood her, his warm essence filling her as he kept his face buried in her neck.

After long minutes of getting his breath under control, as her body cooled down, he slowly pulled out of her, picking up wet tissues from the bedside table, and cleaned her up quickly before taking care of himself, dropping them in the basket she had kept beside the bed before turning to her. He stripped her of the t-shirt quickly, throwing it over his shoulder somewhere on the floor before tugging the sheets up over them, lying down beside her.

Felicity's heart pounded as she looked up at him, seeing his troubled eyes, and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over his jaw, silently asking him whatever was wrong.

He looked back at her, his blue eyes hard, but slowly softening as he searched her face, his hand cupping her stomach protectively like he had taken to doing, his other hand cupping the back of her head just as protectively.

"Oliver?" she asked him softly, blinking up at the pain in his gaze. 

He shook his head. "I love you," he whispered softly, pressing a small kiss to her lips before settling back and pulling her body into his, closing his eyes.

It had been one of those days for him.

Felicity planted a soft kiss on his chest, hugging him tight, whispering her own "I love you" into his skin before closing her eyes. 

 

* * *

 

 

Felicity chopped the vegetables as Raisa worked beside her, Thea and Roy sitting on the tall island stools, flirtatiously bickering about something Felicity was pretty sure she didn't want to know of. But she loved seeing that almost smile on Roy's face that had become a fixture over the last years, when he gazed at Thea. Looking at them, so in love, she wondered if that was what Thea saw when she looked at Oliver with her. 

Shaking her head, she focused on not chopping her own finger off and listened to Raisa join in on the conversation, the jabs and words so familiar to Felicity, giving her a sense of belonging she had never known she had needed but thankfully had. 

Looking at them, Felicity knew how absolutely loved their child would be. 

And that was another thing. It had been three nights since she had told Oliver about the pregnancy. The next morning, Dr. Nelson had called her with the details. 

Felicity was four weeks into her pregnancy, and from what Dr. Nelson had been able to determine, it would be a normal one, not any more discomforting than the others. She had advised Felicity to be cautious while doing physical work and not to take a lot of stress, also while mailing her a diet plan she was supposed to follow, along with a prescription. Felicity had, at that point, taken a deep breath, blushed to her dyed roots and asked her outright about sex. Dr. Nelson, to her credit, had not chuckled, but simply told her that at this point in the pregnancy, sex was absolutely okay. In fact, it would be good due to the hormones released during orgasm, so Felicity had gotten the proverbial green light. Then, the older woman had told her of how, slowly, her body would actually start craving sex (her polite way of saying Felicity would be horny as a rabbit), and she was supposed to come see her then immediately to ascertain whether to continue with the activities or not. 

Felicity had swallowed and cut the call, and left her office to find her husband to tell him the news. 

Oliver had been in the basement, doing the salmon ladder, sweating, his muscles flexing.

Felicity had just locked the door, gone down and told him the entire conversation while he had swayed on the top rung from that blasted iron bar before jumping down, landing right in front of her. She had been out of her clothes and on the desk before she could have uttered another word and he had been buried inside her, his sweaty body pressed into hers, slick and erotic, while he had moved, making her moan right on that desk.

They had dressed after that, and after a serious discussion, decided that her pregnancy should not be made public knowledge for as long as possible for her own protection. But grinning, they had also decided to keep this just to themselves for a while.

And then he had gone out of town for a day and come back last night.

Felicity frowned, remembering the aggression, the desperation she had felt in him last night. It was not unusual for him to be haunted that way, especially not when he had seen something bad or when he was with her. That was one of the things she appreciated the most about him- no matter what he felt, he didn't try to hide that from her, not for long at least. But last night had been too intense. Not that she minded the intensity. Nope. She loved him for it. But something had gotten to him, clearly. 

Felicity looked at the chopped vegetables and pushed them away, wiping her hands on a dish towel and looked at Roy.

"Is Oliver on the property?"

Roy blinked at her question for a second before shaking his head. "I saw him head out with Digg a few hours ago."

Okay.

Felicity nodded, just as her phone chimed and she looked at the text message from her husband.

 

**Oliver** _**: How are you feeling?** _

 

Felicity slapped a palm to her forehead. This was like his daily report. He'd always text her, at least thrice a day, asking about her status like she was ready to pop out a mini Oliver while he was away. It was equally endearing and equally annoying and she didn't know which one to go with at the moment. 

 

**Felicity _: I just finished doing cartwheels. I'm sweaty._**

 

She could practically _feel_ his sigh on the other end before he typed. 

 

**Oliver** _**: Just make sure not to land on your stomach.** _

 

A small giggle left her at his response, and she bit her lips. 

 

**Felicity** _**: I will. When are you coming home?** _

 

She waited for his reply, but it didn't come. He must have gotten busy, she figured, and went to her office, getting the last project she had been working on in order before the weekend. Also, because it was her birthday tomorrow. And Oliver, from the way he had been behaving, apparently had nothing planned as far as she could tell.  

Shaking her head, she busied herself with the work, engrossing herself till her mind blanked out on anything except the coding she could see, her hand softly caressing her own belly in a habit she had taken to. Raisa got her lunch in the middle of it, her eyes knowing as Felicity kept her hand on her tummy, but she kept silent, leaving Felicity to get back to work. Felicity relished the full taste of the noodles she had asked Raisa to cook in the morning, and kept up on her codes for hours. Before she knew it, the dark had set outside the windows and she was blinking her eyes open, feeling herself move.

She looked up, disoriented, at Oliver carrying her, and realized she must have dozed off in the office.

"The programs are open," she mumbled against his warm chest, snuggling into his arms as he carried her, walking leisurely.

"I shut them down," his whisper reached her, his lips brushing the top of her head.

She had given Oliver a password to set the entire system to sleep just in situations like this, and she was glad she had, knowing that the programs would be there when she returned to them. She nodded, yawning, and relaxed completely, keeping her eyes closed, sleep still hanging over her head.

She felt Oliver set her down on a cushioned chair and blinked her eyes open. She was in the car, in the black Porsche SUV she had driven just once a long time ago, and Oliver was tightening her seat belt. Still drowsy, she took a hold of his arm, and looked up as he leaned down, brushing her lips with his softly, his eyes shadowed. 

She saw him shut her door and round the car to the driver's side with bleary eyes, saw Digg nod to her from the doorway of the house, standing beside Roy, saw Oliver buckle himself up before starting the ignition and reversing the huge vehicle out of the drive. It was pitch black outside, completely dark and moonless, as Oliver drove with speed and confidence to wherever but it didn't bother her. Felicity relaxed into the comfortable seat, knowing that Oliver would never risk their lives of the life of their baby.

Yawning again, feeling too tired for some reason, she toed her heels off and curled up on the seat, watching his eyes glance at her and his lips curl in amusement before he focused back on the road.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice rough from sleep.

She cleared her throat.

"It's a surprise," Oliver replied, his lips smiling but eyes on the dark road.

Surprise?

Oliver turned to her then, just for a second, his eyes soft on hers.

"Happy birthday, солнышко. "

Breath hitching, Felicity looked at the time on the dash. 12:03 AM.

"Thank you."

Oliver smiled wider, shrugging. "Go back to sleep. You're too tired."

"I don't know why given I did nothing but work on a few codes," she grumbled.

His lips twitched more at her tone and he shrugged again. "Just sleep, okay?"

Felicity looked at the darkness around them, at the completely unlit path as he drove, then turned to see his profile, his square, scruffy jaw, his muscular forearms controlling the beast he was driving, and lay back quietly, closing her eyes, trusting him to keep that darkness at bay.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? 
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. 
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
> TUMBLR : [supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com](http://supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com/)  
> TWITTER : [@dorky06](http://twitter.com/Dorky06/)


	6. Flare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> Thank you so much for the warm reception to this story. I cannot tell you how encouraging every single comment is, here and on all other platforms that you reach out to me on. I really am so very grateful for each and every one of it. Thank you so much! 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Earlier than this Friday because it wanted to be written today. (And later than the last because of the Trailer Fever that ensued). And it's longer than all the others so far. Stuff happens. Enjoy!
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts. I love hearing from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Something jostled her. Felicity woke with a start, her hand covering her stomach of its own accord even before she was completely awake, her eyes blinking away the last vestiges of sleep from her system. 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Oliver's soft voice made her turn towards him, to see him wearing the same navy shirt he had worn in the morning, the sleeves rolled up his strong forearms as he steered the vehicle. Felicity blinked, more disoriented that usual, and looked around, spotting her glasses on the dashboard, folded neatly. Her heart melted, knowing Oliver had done that while she had been asleep. He did such small things sometimes that never stopped moving her, mostly because even now, she still got surprised by them. Picking her glasses up, she pushed them up her nose, the world suddenly coming into sharp focus, and peered outside. They were still in the SUV and it was still dark outside, the vehicle climbing up the road. Climbing? Why were they climbing? Where were they going?

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice cracking from sleep, rusty with disuse as a huge yawn escaped her. 

"We're almost there," Oliver replied, his eyes on the empty road. 

Where was 'there'? Felicity yawned again, straightening in her seat as she felt her muscles ease slowly, a moan escaping her lips as she stretched.  

"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked as she tucked her legs under her, settling comfortably into her seat, turning sideways towards him. Even though she was exasperated by the question by now, Felicity couldn't help but smile by his unshakable persistence. He had been asking her the same thing every chance he had gotten, ever since he'd found out about the baby a few days ago. 

"Stiff," she replied, cracking her neck a bit. "I'd love to just stretch my legs a bit." 

"I'm sure you can manage in the leg space here," he said, just a hint of teasing in his voice. "They are quite short."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "You like them wrapped around you well enough, mister."

He shrugged. "Doesn't mean they aren't short."

Felicity slapped him on the arm and he chuckled, turning left, shaking his head.

She looked outside the window, to the slight valley below, and frowned. 

"How long have you been driving?" she asked, mentally checking the map of the city and the area around it. 

"Almost 2 hours," he replied. "We covered a lot of distance." 

"To where?"

He just smiled and Felicity huffed in frustration, looking at his stubborn jaw, knowing he wouldn't talk. She sat back and rolled the window down, the cool wind suddenly blowing over her face, the sky seeming so much larger, just an open expanse above them, littered with stars. 

Felicity played with the three rings around her finger as they rode in companionable silence for a while. Her engagement ring, her wedding ring, and the ring he had given her on the beach with that private proposal, the memory of which still made her stomach flip. Having the three rings on her finger had taken some getting used to, but she wouldn't remove a single one of them for the world now. Every one of those rings on her finger kept her anchored, reminded her of how much they had been through, each of the rings representing a phase in their relationship they had overcome. Cheesy as it was, the rings made her strong, and feeling them on her hand just felt _right._  

Felicity glanced towards his hand openly, seeing the solitary platinum band on his finger. It was like him. Solid, simple but powerful. He had never removed it from his finger since the day she had slid it on, back when she had believed the marriage had been a farce. He never had. She could see in retrospect how sincere he had been on their wedding day, how truthfully he had meant every vow.

Felicity looked at his frame, remembering that one time almost a year ago. Oliver had told her soon into their marriage how he had had to deal with women in the business, how many of them had flirted with him but they had all known he had been committed to her. Felicity had trusted him completely, and almost a year ago, at a dinner Anatoli had thrown for friends and family, in her old house, that trust had been solidified into something unshakable.

She remembered that scene like yesterday, remembered walking down the corridor towards her old bedroom, remembered hearing voices from the corridor on the left, remembered the surprise that had assailed her, followed swiftly by anger at the sight before her. Sonya Rochev, Isabel's cousin and the woman Felicity had warned off from Oliver, had been trying to get close to her husband. Once upon a time, Felicity had been jealous of the woman, for being everything Felicity had not been- tall, lush, gorgeous. By that point, though, Felicity had known she didn't have to be anything but herself for her husband to want her. He had seen her at her worst and still kept her close. So, she had watched silently as he had stood steady, keeping Sonya away from his body, gripping her arms to hold her off. 

Felicity remembered standing there, out of their line of sight, just seeing them, hearing them. 

"I thought you liked playing these games, Oliver," Sonya Rochev had spoken sultrily, her red gown glowing on her gorgeous body, the body she had been trying to push closer to Oliver. 

"I do, Sonya," Oliver had said in a hard voice. "But the only woman I'll be playing any games with is my wife."

"We both know what marriages mean in our world, Oliver," Sonya had laughed, a tinkering sound that had made Felicity grit her teeth. "It doesn't matter in our world."

"Then find someone to whom it doesn't," Oliver had pushed her away. "It matters to me."

Sonya had tilted her head at that. "You are serious? Think about it, Oliver. She'd never know."

"I will know, Sonya."

Sonya had stepped back, looking curiously at him. "Why her? She's not at all like the woman you prefer."

"Don't make the mistake of thinking I am available," Oliver had said in a frigid tone. "We have business to do but don't think for a second I won't drop them all if you even step near my marriage."

"You will?"

Oliver had just stared coldly at her and she had backed off, walking away. Felicity had stood, stunned, even though she had known Oliver had been faithful. But she had not expected the ferocity of that fidelity. She had walked out back on numb legs, her heart bursting with something so much more profound than love, and he had joined her after seconds, smiling and joining the conversation with her mother like he just hadn't told someone off. He had never told her about that incident. She had never told him either. They hadn't needed to. 

"What has you smiling like that?"

Oliver's voice broke her from her thoughts and she looked at him, her smile widening as she just shrugged. 

"How did Thea let you kidnap me on my birthday, by the way?" she asked, diverting her thoughts. 

"She didn't," Oliver grumbled. "We still have a party to go to when we return day after."

"Return from where?"

As though in answer, he turned the car left, pulling in front of a dark gate she couldn't see well. He rolled his window down and pressed on a remote, opening the gates and drove in. Felicity turned in her seat to see the gates close behind them and then turned back, confusion flooding her as the car stopped in front of a hill. Of sorts. 

It was a rocky hill. That was the only thing she could see. Felicity got down from the car before Oliver could cross to her side, blood rushing through her legs in pinpricks, making her wince slightly as she looked around the area. Thick woods surrounded the small clearing they stood in, cloaking the gate they had just entered and the high fence around the area, cocooning them under the night sky. The scent of pine and ocean was heavy in the air as Felicity took a step forward, towards the hill the size of a small house, when her eyes fell on the door at the center.

She turned towards Oliver, baffled, to see him leaning against the hood of the SUV, legs crossed at the ankles and arms crossed over his chest, a small smile on his lips as he let her venture forward, let her discover the area on her own.

Frowning at his smugness, Felicity turned back to the door, the huge, heavy oak door and stepped towards it, her hand going to the old, heavy handle on it that looked decades old. Her hand wrapped around the cool metal, the polished feel of it telling her it was new, only made to look rusty, and she pushed it open, feeling the thick door give out, opening smoothly on its heavy hinges.

She felt Oliver come up behind her as she stepped inside the darkness. He flicked on the lights.

Felicity gasped.

It was a cave. A cave. A _cave?_  

Felicity stared around stunned, her brain unable to form any coherent thought as she gaped at the interior.

Yes, it was a cave. No Stone Aged ancient dwelling though. Nope.

It was modern. Very modern. The light sandstone walls were all beautifully smoothed, the roughness only in texture, occasional niches carved into those walls to function as shelves. The floors were buried under soft, plush, dark beige carpet that looked invitingly fluffy. Very modern multi wardrobe took up an entire wall, along with a large set of drawers, on her right, both dark, heavy oak, matching the door she had just opened. Her eyes traveled to the bed further in, a huge bed, beneath a curved arch that had been hewn into the wall, making it seem very inviting in it coziness, and slightly away from main area, giving it a semblance of privacy. There was a fireplace on her left, scooped out of the cave wall itself, before which sat a set of soft armchairs and couches, of the same beige of the carpet. And there was a highly arched, lighted balcony at the far end, open, the breeze from which blew the gauzy curtains in. It beckoned her forward.

Felicity walked ahead in a daze, towards the balcony. The closer she got, the clearer the view became, and her jaw dropped, unable to believe something so beautiful could exist. And as she stood in the balcony, holding the metal rails, it became clear. She had seen houses on cliffs in magazines. But this wasn't _on_ the cliff. It _was_ the cliff. Carved into the cliff. And below, way way below, was the sea, sprawled out in front of her, under her, for miles and miles till the dark horizon. Looking at it, she realized they weren't that far out of the city, only closer to the shore, where exactly she didn't know. And though she was afraid of heights, Felicity could not move, could not look away for the life of her, from the little currents she could see the wind make on the surface of the water, from the huge expanse of the sky over her, littered with multitudes of stars, so clear. 

She had never traveled anywhere, never lived anywhere except first at her father's house and then the mansion. For two years they had never been able to take a trip for themselves, for both their work lives, and though she had never minded, Felicity had longed to see the sea like this one day, to snuggle in the mountains somewhere, to roll in the snow sometime.

It suddenly came to her. One night, months ago, she had told Oliver about this. She remembered telling him of the houses she had seen in a magazine the other day, cave houses. How ingenious they had been. How intriguing. She remembered the fascination in her own voice as Oliver had stroked her spine, and remembered falling asleep wondering what it would have been like to live in one. 

And now she was standing in one. 

Chest tight with emotions, Felicity turned, to see her husband standing in front of the kitchen table, with a small cake with a candle on it, glowing mutely, as he waited patiently for her.

"Happy birthday, солнышко."

How was this man _even real?_

She was running to him before she knew it, crossing the space between them, throwing herself into his arms, overwhelmed by the plethora of emotions washing over her. Clutching his chest tightly, she just surrounded herself with him, her throat clogged with too many things bursting inside her, her mind unable to believe that he had done this, _actually done this,_ for her. But somehow, someway, he had.

Oliver wrapped her in his embrace, his muscular arms wrapping around her as he tugged her closer to his chest, ensconcing her in his warmth, smiling into her hair, pressing soft kisses to her head.

"солнышко?"

Shaking her head, she held on tight, not moving an inch, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, no words coming out.

She heard him chuckle at her resistance before he pried her away slowly, looking down at her with that look of his, his blue eyes so soft on hers, and she felt moisture prickle her eyes, disbelieving of her own luck, disbelieving that this was the same man who so many men feared. The father of her baby. 

She swallowed, wetting her lips with her tongue. "Thank you. For this. For everything. For being you. For just... for.. I just...for..." she stuttered, floundering for words and his lips twitched, his hands rubbing her back.  

"This is nothing, Felicity," he spoke quietly in the air between them, his azure gaze locked on hers, making her heart pound with so much. "Absolutely nothing compared to what you do for me, who you are to me."

He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together, and Felicity closed her eyes, wrapped up in him, feeling him, his warm breath brushing over her face, the moment so peaceful, so _everything_. 

"I love you."

She felt his lips press over hers at her words softly, once, before he pulled back, a smile of pure happiness on his lips, and looked pointedly at the cake. Felicity huffed a laugh and turned to it.

"Make a wish," he reminded her. 

Felicity looked up at him. What could she wish for? She had everything she needed, everything she wanted, and more. 

She saw his eyes darken, understanding pass between them and he shook his head, a small smile of contentment on his mouth.

Leaning down, she blew the candle, keeping her eyes on his, and cut a small slice. She fed it to him before licking her own fingers, the taste of rich, creamy chocolate rolling over her tongue, their gazes locked, heated. 

Oliver slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, unbuttoned his shirt, and taking his cue, she pulled her dress over her head and stepped out of her flats, feeling the soft carpet between her toes. The wind from the open balcony caressed her back, making a small shiver travel down her spine and contrast with the heat tingling through her body.

A sudden thought came to her, making laughter bubble up inside her. 

"You have a cave," she giggled at the situation as he undressed completely and stepped forward. 

"So?" he asked, his voice rough with arousal, in the way that had a direct line to her groin. But the humor of it was dominating her at the moment. 

"So," she said, still laughing. "I knew you were a caveman somewhere." 

Oliver narrowed his eyes, letting them glint with a hint of mischief, before suddenly picking her up by the butt and throwing her over his shoulder, making his way to the bed under the arch while she squirmed and laughed, the sound loud in the huge space.

"Oliver! Put me down!"

He slapped her butt lightly. "You want caveman. I'll show you caveman."

He would have dropped her on the soft mattress any other time. This time though, he lowered her gently on the bed, completely at odds with his caveman statement, and it melted her again, how gentle he could be sometimes. He came over her, playfully biting her chin, growling, his scruff tickling her skin. 

Felicity simpered, squirming away. "Oliver!"

Another nip. 

"You're such a Flintstone!"

He kept nipping her neck, and she kept laughing, aware, the entire time, of his hand cupping her stomach. 

 

* * *

 

Felicity woke up the morning after next due to the sun on her face and her phone ringing madly somewhere. She grumbled, burying herself under the covers, drowning in the soft pillows, before she realized she was alone in the gigantic bed. Blinking her eyes open, she wrapped the sheet around herself, and got down from the bed, wincing at the soreness between her legs. Not that she had anyone but herself to blame for it. Something had come over them yesterday. They had been shacked up in the cave, away from the world, just the two of them like they never had been before. There had never been time before, something or the other had always come up. But for her entire birthday, they had done nothing but eat, laugh, talk and make love for long, long hours, uncaring of the hour of the day. And it had been the best, sweetest birthday she had ever had. She had been so overwhelmed by him, by his gift, by his love, that she had initiated multiple rounds with him, which he had been more than happy to comply with. And now her muscles were glaringly reminding her of all her enthusiasm. 

"Sore?"

Felicity looked up to see Oliver carry a tray to bed, complete with a red rose and she felt laughter burst out of her at the domestic sight he made. She had had a luxurious life in a lot of ways, but she had never had anyone bring her a rose to bed.  

"What did you do? Read a manual on how to woo your wife?" she asked, picking up a glass.

"It was an article actually," he replied unabashedly, grinning, his hair tousled from her fingers and his boxer briefs low on his hips, his body perfect in all its imperfections.

"What was it called?"

Deadpanned, he replied. "How To Revive Your Marriage in 10 Simple Steps."

The water she had been drinking snorted out of her mouth as she looked up at him, aghast, and this time Oliver burst out laughing, probably at her expression. 

"Any more revival and I wouldn't be able to walk for weeks," she muttered grumpily, snatching a croissant off the tray. 

"Any more revival and I wouldn't be able to keep up with you," he stated, sitting down in front of her, sipping orange juice from a tall glass.

Shaking her head, Felicity looked at him, at his relaxed face, and bit her lip, wondering whether she should ask him the question or wait.   

"Do I want to know what's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

His amused voice had her putting her glass down as she gnawed on her lip again.

Taking a deep breath, she finally asked. "What happened two days ago?"

His face closed up so fast she would have completely missed it had she blinked. But she didn't blink. She saw the transformation with her very own eyes and it confounded her even more. His shoulders tensed a bit as his gaze swerved up, clashing with hers, his face suddenly completely impassive, completely neutral, all amusement and relaxation vanished, the mask she knew he wore with everyone around him in place. Everyone but her.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully, in a measured voice.

Seriously? That was how he was playing it?

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him. "I think we've been married long enough for you not to insult my intelligence like that, Oliver."

She saw one annoying eyebrow rise up at her tone as he took a deep breath. "It was just something related to the Bratva."

"And to me?" she questioned, her nerves fraught with trepidation.

"No."

Felicity looked at the small muscle ticking in his jaw, her stomach churning, her jaw clenching. "Since when did you start lying to me?"

"I'm not."

Felicity got up from the bed, the sheet wrapped around her, feeling a weight settle in her chest, her heart hammering. "If you don't wish to tell me now, say so. If you want time, I get it. But don't you dare lie to my face, Oliver Queen."

Oliver suddenly stood up, stepping right into her personal space, his mask slipping as she saw the raging emotions cross his face in rapid succession, his eyes a turbulent blue piercing hers as she tilted her neck up to keep them locked, so turbulent they made a slight shiver run through her even in the sunlit cave.

_"I. Am. Not. Lying. To. You."_

The guttural emphasis on every word, the stark brutality in his eyes had her breath hitching. She searched his eyes for long, long seconds, and he let her, his gaze unwavering.

He was telling the truth. 

"Then what is it?" Felicity murmured softly, not understanding what had riled him up so much, what was wounding him up even now.

Oliver exhaled, stepping away from her, brushing a hand through his hair, the weariness in the action tugging at her heart. He went towards the balcony, gazing out at the sea, despondency hanging on his broad shoulders, slumping them in a way she could not read. She watched the muscles in his back twitch under the scars as he stayed silent for minutes. What had happened that day? She had very rarely seen Oliver like this. He had his dark days, sure. But not like this. Nothing like this. This was more intense. A _lot_ more intense than usual.

"Oliver?" she whispered quietly, softly, beseeching him to turn, to talk to her, to tell her what was troubling him.

His back moved as he inhaled and turned to her, shaking his head, his eyes hard, his voice even more so. "We have to get back home in a few hours. Freshen up."

Felicity felt her heart drop at his demeanor, at his words, and her mouth opened before she could stop it, her tone so dejected even she could hear it. "You won't join me?"

Oliver tilted his head then, his eyes softening a bit at her tone, the hard line of his mouth relaxing a bit. "You are sore, Felicity."

She gulped. "It's just shower, Oliver. We don't have to have sex."

"You know we will."

She did. They always did after arguments.

Nodding, she picked up a dress from the bag he had brought, along with her underwear and went to the bathroom on the left, keeping her eyes off him, suddenly feeling miserable for some reason. 

She shut the door behind her, taking in the huge cavernous area, full with a claw foot bathtub and a showering stall, at one end and a sink and mirror at the other, niches in the cave wall acting as shelves. Felicity stepped in the shower stall, turning the knob, and felt the cool blast of water wash over her, jolting her mind. She showered and dressed quickly, walking out of the bathroom, not wanting to leave Oliver alone with his mood for long. 

But he was already wrapped in the brood cloak, all glowering eyebrows and tight lips, packing their stuff in the bags with curt movements and exiting the cave before she could even come out. Felicity stayed on the spot for one second, looking at his retreating back, before letting her eyes roam the expanse of the cave, something tugging at her heart at the sweetness of his gesture. And she felt bad now. He wasn't lying to her and she knew that the business could get bad, and knowing how protective he was, it probably was nothing. Shaking her head, she followed after him, and stepped out in the sun, admiring the green woods around them. 

She saw him lock the place up and head to the car, and she followed, buckling herself in. He reversed out of the spot silently, and started down the narrow path, and Felicity looked back at the cave, a wistful smile on her lips. 

"Thank you, Oliver," she said quietly, breaking the loaded silence between them, cutting through the tension, genuinely meaning the words from every part of her being. "This was the most special birthday I could have ever hoped for. I'll miss that place though." 

Oliver glanced at her swiftly, his body relaxing slightly, before watching the road. "It's yours."

Felicity stilled, her eyes swerving to him. Had she heard it right? "Explain that sentence," she demanded.

She saw him shrug his broad shoulders casually, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on her. "I bought it a few weeks ago. The deed is in your name."

Her heart stopped for a second before battering against her chest, her mouth gaping. "Explain that sentence," she croaked out this time. 

His lips twitched a bit before he spoke, turning right and onto a broader path, the woods thinning around them. "You always said there was no place for us to go to like normal married couples. So I figured we should have our own vacation home. Plus the property is big enough to expand on if we wish. And I remembered you talking about those cave houses the other night."

"Oliver, that was months ago!"

He just shrugged and Felicity blinked rapidly, biting her lip, rendered speechless for the moment. Only he. Only he would buy a cave house in her name because she had talked wistfully about it months ago on a night even she couldn't remember with clarity. It was overwhelming. It was ridiculous. It was so Oliver. 

"There's another thing."

Felicity's eyes went back to his frame, so solid, so real in the sunlight coming through the windows. "What is it?"

Oliver stole a glance at her. "It's also a safe house. For you. And the baby." 

What? 

"Oliver..."

He shook his head, interrupting her. "I'm not saying we'll need it for that reason," he spoke, turning right and finally coming on the main road, the woods completely behind them now as they drove downhill. "Just that if something happened and the house was unsafe... It's a good place. Spacious. Well hidden. No one would ever know it was there except us."

That was true. But _why_ even...?

Oliver glanced at her again for a second before speaking, his voice somber. "It's just a precaution. I need you to promise me that you'll come here the moment you feel the house is unsafe and Digg or I are not there."

What the hell? Her heart started a rapid staccato in her chest.  

"Oliver," Felicity began, her stomach laden with heaviness, fear strangling her chest. Something was wrong. Something was very, _very_ wrong. She could feel it in her bones. 

"I need you to promise me, Felicity," Oliver said again, his tone rough with something akin to desperation, as he kept his eyes straight ahead. 

"Why?" she whispered, fear clogging her throat, her nerves cloying inside her body as she gripped her hands together tightly, her knuckles paling. 

"Because our world is brutal and you and this baby are the most important things to me." 

"What about Thea?" she asked, trying to get away from it. 

"I have ensured she'll be safe," Oliver stated curtly. "Promise me."

She shouldn't. Everything inside her was telling her she shouldn't. And she had promised Oliver never to stop listening to her instincts. 

"I promise to keep the baby and myself safe," she spoke and saw him frown at her wording. 

"This is important, Felicity."

"I wonder why it is, Oliver."

Silence ensued. 

Oliver spoke after long, stretched seconds. "I just need you to trust me, солнышко."

"I do trust you, Oliver," she replied instantly. "I just want to know what's got your panties in a bunch. Boxers I mean. Briefs. Boxer briefs."

His lips curled up at that. "Trust me?" 

Felicity took in his face, his scruffy jaw, that mole she could see at the corner of his lips, his focused eyes, remembering all their time together, knowing that she knew this man deep to his bones, knowing that he would rather cut his own arm off than let something happen to them. Whatever it was, whatever was bothering him, he would tell her eventually, on his own. 

"Always," she replied softly, putting her hand on his thigh and squeezing softly. Oliver looked at her, smiling _her_ smile for her, taking a hold of her hand, squeezing back before taking the wheel again.

She relaxed back, ignoring the voice nagging inside her to pursue the matter, silencing it, trusting him to take them home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? 
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. 
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
> TUMBLR : [supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com](http://supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com/)  
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	7. Blaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> Thanks so much, first of all, to the terrific response to the previous chapter! Every single way you all encourage me matters so much to me! I'm so excited to see the enthusiasm for this story! THANK YOU!
> 
> Here is the next chapter. This is a long one. Stuff happens. Enjoy!
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts! I love hearing from you! 
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> Happy reading!!!

Donna Smoak may not be a genius like her daughter, but where Felicity was concerned, she had always had a keen instinct.

Felicity knew this. Even when she had been a little girl, there had not been much she could hide from her mother without her knowing she was hiding something. She had a look, a look Felicity suspected every mother had patented over the years which they unleashed when they knew their child was lying either directly or by omission. For her mother, it had always been looking straight into her eyes with slightly raised eyebrows and a pursed mouth. And though the older woman had never forced Felicity to reveal whatever it had been, she had always ensured that Felicity could talk to her anytime of the day or night. Little Felicity had used to go to her mother when she had needed to spill and simply shuffled on her feet. That had been enough indication. Now, grown up as she was, she had gotten the shuffling under control. But not the fidgeting. Or the excessive blinking. She was a shit liar and she knew it. 

Which was why Felicity sat fidgeting in her chair as her mother sipped her glass of lemonade, looking at her with sharp turquoise eyes so much like her own. After her father's death, the two had bonded even more, and keeping the news of the baby from her mom, knowing how ecstatic she would be, was not sitting well with her. 

They were sitting in Felicity's old house, in the sunlit lawn after having a light lunch, as was their Saturday ritual - the house where she had met her husband for the first time. Felicity smiled a bit at the memory, from so long ago and shook it off, aware of the way her mother was watching her carefully. 

"Where is Anatoly?" Felicity asked, sipping her own lemonade, enjoying the citrus flavor on her tongue, letting it roil over her taste buds. 

Her mother shrugged her petite shoulders, her yellow sundress bright in the sun. "Off doing something, who knows?" 

Felicity hummed a response, fidgeting again under her scrutiny. She really needed to stop fidgeting. She was a grown woman. She was going to be a mother, for Google's sake! Which reminded her never to give her child that 'mom' look. But she would totally have to because Oliver was going to spoil the kid rotten. Utterly. Huh. She'd have to take a 101 course on How To Get The Mom Look pretty soon. Maybe even practice it in the mirror. Later. Right now, she just needed to stop the dang fidgeting. 

Finally, after a few seconds of feeling like a mysterious bug under a microscope, Felicity sighed. "Just spill it already, Mom."

Her mother blinked innocently, tilting her head, in an eerily similar way to her. She cleared her throat before opening her mouth.

"I don't know," the slight frown of her arched brows was adorable on her beautiful face. Except it was making Felicity squirm. "There is something different about the way you are holding yourself. I can't pin it down."

Felicity froze in her chair, her eyes widening as she looked at the confused frown on her mother's face. A momentary flare of panic overcame her. Did she know? Could her mother know? Was there some kind of maternal radar about these things? If so, when did one develop it? During pregnancy? And if so, why didn't she have it, yet? Could her mother know she was carrying a baby? A baby her husband had put all his back into to make? Oliver had put so much back into it.

Felicity flushed, a slight giggle rising inside her that she quickly tamped down, keeping her face blank. "What do you mean?"

The older woman frowned again and Felicity's antenna stood on alert, receiving heavy mom signals. Was she going to have those too? 

"You are just... I can't explain it," the older woman said, gesturing with her hands. "There's just something different than usual."

Bun in the oven, Mom, Felicity thought silently, then shook her head.

Looking at her mother's earnest face, the urge to tell her that she was going to be a mother herself almost brought the words to the tip of her tongue, but she quelled it down. Oliver and she had discussed this the other night. They wanted to keep it to themselves for some time. She couldn't tell anyone, even her mother, without telling him. It didn't sit right with her.

Swallowing, she shrugged it off with a laugh. "Maybe it's the glow of a happy marriage as you keep telling me."

Exactly as Felicity had expected, her mother's face split into a smile. If there was one woman who doted upon Oliver more than Raisa, it was her mother. She absolutely _adored_ him as a son-in-law, she always had, and she utterly respected him as a man. Seeing them together made Felicity's heart melt so much - seeing the way Oliver quietly lapped up the motherly affection without being very obvious about it, and her mother gush over a son she never thought she'd have. Felicity loved seeing the two of them talk and be. It always warmed her heart in a way she had never thought possible.  

"Everything good with Oliver?"

Her mother's voice jolted her out of her thoughts. Though it was a weekly question to which Felicity always nodded and smiled, something made her still today as she bit her lip. For this one moment, Felicity needed to talk to her, not as a daughter to a mother, but as a woman to another. Knowing the kind of man her mother had been a wife to for so many years, a Bratva wife, Felicity needed to understand the one thing that had been confounding her - the mysterious thing with Oliver that her instinct just couldn't let go of. She trusted Oliver but she trusted her instinct too, and for the two days since they had returned from the cave-house, the two trusts had been warring inside her. Though the subject hadn't been broached again, it had stayed, inside her head, prodding her like a thorn. 

And she needed to talk to the one person she could about it.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity spoke, her hands holding the condensing glass. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Her mother looked at her sharply and leaned forward, her matured, beautiful face holding a serious expression. "About Oliver?"

Felicity blinked at her expression and bit her lip. "Sort of. It is nothing actually, just something that's been bothering me."

"Okay," the older woman encouraged and Felicity nodded.

"A few days ago, Oliver came home a bit troubled," she began, knowing she would never tell anyone the extent of everything between her husband and herself. "He brushed it off when I asked him about it, and then again two days ago. But it has been bothering me."

"Did he say why?"

The frustration she had felt in the cave mounted. "He said it had to do with the Bratva but..."

Her mother slowly took her hand, holding it between both of hers, her face and tone somber. "Felicity, there is one very important thing you need to understand about being a Bratva wife," she started, her eyes holding so much weight Felicity's stomach turned. "Sometimes, when it comes to your husband, some questions are better left untouched."

Before Felicity could even rebel at the statement, her mother squeezed her hand once, stopping the words in her mouth.

"We have lived our lives almost completely untouched by this world, Felicity," her mother spoke softly, sounding older than her years, her eyes slightly distant, lost in her memories. "That is because the men in our lives touch them for us. I know it is sexist and completely unjust but that's the way this world is."

Felicity wet her lips, waiting for the older woman to continue. 

"It is so brutal, sweetheart," her mother blinked, a sheen of moisture in her eyes. "So, so brutal. Men have lost themselves because of the things they have seen and done, things they perpetrated and have been victim to." 

Her gaze sharpened back on Felicity. "Your Oliver is a rare gem, Felicity. He not only sees and lives and breathes in this hole everyday, he also comes out of it and comes home to you. And he does it because he loves you so much." 

Felicity's heart clenched upon hearing it, even though she knew it was true. Her mother continued. "Sometimes, when he comes back haunted, it's because crawling out of that hole took something from him. Believe it or not, your father was a very, very honorable man. He used to love us so much but I think, after a point, it all became too much."

Her hand tightened on her mother's. Even now, after all these years, it hurt on some days. Not what he had done or who he had become. No. What hurt was the loss of the man Viktor Orlov had used to be. 

"Mom?" Felicity asked softly. 

Her mother shook her head. "Oliver is ten times the man your father ever was, Felicity. And he loves you a hundred times more than your father loved either of us. What he did for you, how he tried to fight for you from the beginning, it speaks of honor. Of goodness. Things we do not have in our world."

She took another breath. "So, when your husband comes home some nights, troubled, ask him about it. If he doesn't tell you, trust him. He does it to keep that brutality from touching you by taking it himself. Keep him grounded and keep him to you. Because in that moment, you are the only thing stopping him from spiraling in that hole he just escaped from. The only way to keep from sinking in that hole is by being together."

Their eyes locked for long minutes, and Felicity nodded, understanding. It wasn't easy, by any means. But she understood.

The heaviness from the conversation remained between them as Felicity got up, bidding her mother a goodbye and hugging her tightly, before turning towards the driveway where Roy waited for her. Her mood quiet, mulling her mother's words in her head, she saw Roy frown at her serious expression and shook her head, getting in the passenger side as he slid in behind the wheel. 

He pulled the car out, and Felicity stayed silent all the way home, her chest tight.

 

* * *

 

Verdant had not changed much over the two years. Except it was completely up to date. The decor was still the same - steel and chrome set all around the huge area, keeping to the authentic feel of the factory it had used to be once upon a time. The bar had expanded to one entire side of where the dance floor began, with three able, cute bartenders keeping the glasses full and smiles floating. The DJ booth was empty tonight, courtesy of Oliver. 

He had read, in the dedicated way he had started researching about babies and pregnant women, that very loud music was bad for the baby. Since Thea had no idea she was going to be an aunt, Felicity had no clue as to how Oliver convinced her to get rid of the DJ and the loud music, but somehow, the entire area was lit up with multi colored lights and loud but soft music played in the background, lulling an incredible number of romantic couples on the dance floor. 

Felicity watched from above, leaning her elbows on the railing in the VIP section. Wearing a strapless pink dress, with a body hugging corset and a skirt that flared from her hips to just above her knees, falling in pleats over her thighs, her hair twisted up in a seemingly messy up do that had taken an hour to perfect, Felicity glanced at the rings on her finger. She remembered the first time she had stepped in the club, on the night Thea had thrown them a wedding party. She remembered how mad she had been, how Ray had tried to get her to dance and Oliver had thrown a testosterone fit. A smile curled her lips at the memory. Even then, when she had hated him, she hadn't. She had warred with herself about him then. Was she warring now? She didn't know. 

Closing her eyes, Felicity blew out a breath just as she felt arms come around her from behind, a warm chest pressing into her bare shoulder blades, the buttons on his shirt without the tie pressing into her spine. Felicity turned her neck to look up at Oliver, her own arms coming on top of his, tugging him closer as his hands settled on her stomach. He had taken to doing that a lot. Every chance he got. No matter where they were, Oliver would touch her stomach, as though reassuring himself that her stomach was indeed real, and go about his day. 

Last night, when they had gotten to bed, Felicity had slid under the sheets and he had followed, and for the first time in bed, Oliver had leaned down, pressing soft kisses to just below her belly button, before kissing her surprised lips and going off to sleep. Felicity had stayed awake a little longer than he had, something deep, deep inside her touched at the love he already had for his unborn child. 

Oliver's lips skimming over the shell of her ear brought her back to the present with a shiver, her fingers tightening over his forearms. 

"You look beautiful, солнышко," he murmured softly over the skin of her lobe, his teeth tugging it softly and Felicity pressed into his chest, her blood rushing to the spot. 

"You look okay too," she muttered breathlessly and he chuckled, making her groan. She had checked him out too thoroughly for her statement to hold any grain of truth. In his open collared shirt and charcoal suit, that ruffled, sexy, just-out-of-bed hair, Oliver Queen was the epitome of sex-on-legs and he knew it. 

He slowly kissed the side of her neck and Felicity tilted her head, her eyes half opened, going below. 

And she froze. A chill ran through her veins. 

Below, just on the edge of the dance floor, was the man she had seen taking pictures of her back in the Mall the day she had visited the doctor. The man who had not turned up on any facial recognition, as though he was a ghost. The man about whom she had completely forgotten to tell Oliver in the maelstrom of the baby news.

And now he was right there, in Thea's club, watching her stand in an intimate embrace with her husband.

Fuck. Double fuck.

Feeling her stiffen in his arms because obviously, Oliver asked. "What's wrong?"

She was screwed. She was so, so screwed seven ways to Sunday and not the kind of screwed she liked. He was going to _flip._  

Catching the man was more important though. Felicity closed her eyes for a second, her heart starting to pound erratically at the storm she knew was just seconds from brewing.

But catching the man. Then, explanations.

She swallowed, her hands shaking slightly. "There's a man watching us. 1 o'clock." 

Oliver tensed behind her before stepping away. Felicity kept her eyes on the man downstairs, aware of Oliver speaking in quiet tones to Digg behind her, but her eyes were glued to the man. She couldn't make out a lot of his features in the shadows, but she knew it was him. She felt Oliver slip a hand around her waist to tug her back, just as the man below smiled at her. 

Her blood ran cold. Felicity froze, unable to move, the smile making her stomach drop to her knees. That smile was not sinister. It was not evil. It was a very, very dangerous hybrid of the two, bordering on either. Fear churned in her gut, making her breaths rapid as she kept her eyes on him, on that smile that did not leave his face, a frission of fear assaulting her senses. For the first time in a long time, Felicity was truly scared, even in a crowded room full of people, even right beside Oliver. 

Her eyes moved to Digg walking across the dance floor to the shadowed corner, her eyes coming back to the spot. A silent gasp left her. 

The man had disappeared, right in the second she had taken her eyes off him. 

She saw Digg signal to Oliver before he went out back with Roy, and her husband slowly pulled her away from the railing, back to the privacy of the VIP area.

Felicity stood on shaky legs in the middle of the darkened space, only the multi colored lights swiveling below casting their muted glow above. She looked up at Oliver, to find him frowning at her, his hands rubbing her arms soothingly.

"It's okay, солнышко," he spoke softly. "Digg and Roy are following him. He may just be a normal club crasher."

Her eyes clenched shut, her gut knotting, nerves assailing her. 

The moment of truth was upon her. And she felt nauseous. She _knew_ this was her fault. Shit. 

She bit her lip, slowly opening her eyes and locking them with clear blue ones. She saw his frown deepen at whatever he saw on her face before his eyes narrowed slightly. 

"Felicity?"

Her name. She had heard him say her name in every tone of voice over the years. This was her least favorite. It was a truckload of inquiry and demand wrapped up in one word, with a truckload of impatient patience on his part. That tone said 'do you have something to tell me?' and 'tell me now or god help me' all in one word.

Felicity gulped. Her palms started sweating. She should have told him. He was going to lose it. She knew it in her bones he was going to _lose it_ , especially with the baby.

"I have..." she began, inhaling softly, feeling his hands tighten a bit around her arms. "Kind of seen that man before."

Oliver stayed still, not uttering a word, just raising one eyebrow.

This was not as easy as movies made it look. Holy frack.

Felicity took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and facing him square on. "The day I went for my doctor's appointment, I went to the Mall. I was shopping there when I saw the man. Outside the store I was in. Taking pictures of me."

Oliver's eyes hardened and he let go of her arms, cool conditioned air chilling her where his warm palms had been, making her feel bereft.

She saw his hands fist beside him as his jaw clenched.

She continued, knowing she had to spill it all. "I took a few snaps of him, and ran facial recognition when I got home but he didn't show up in any databases."

Oliver's jaw could have been carved from granite. She was sure he was doing some serious dental damage.

"Where was Roy?"

The softly whispered question made a shiver go down her spine. He was quiet. He was furious. Shit.

Felicity swallowed. "I didn't take him."

At the way his eyes closed, Felicity rushed on. "I wanted to go by myself because I kind of has suspected about the baby and I wanted to know the results on my own. I know I probably shouldn't have..."

"You had suspected about the baby?"

She was doomed. Very doomed. The quiet voice was getting to her.

"Yes," she spoke out.

His eyes opened to her response, the blue blazing with fury, with a kind of rage she had never seen be directed towards her.

He took a step closer to her, and though Felicity knew he'd rather amputate a limb than ever hurt her, she had to muster all her courage to stand her ground. This was the man his enemies feared, except maybe worse.

"So let me get this," he began in that controlled voice, his hands clenched to fists by his side. "You get a phone call with a dying woman. A few days later you suspect you are pregnant and you automatically think of leaving Roy behind to go out to your doctor?"

The club's music dulled out as blood rushed to her head, drumming in her ears, her lips shaking. She had screwed up _bad_.

"And then," he continued at her silence, his face morphed into such anger her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. "a man follows you and takes your pictures and you wait for almost an entire fucking week to tell me about it? Tell me, Felicity," he sneered, his voice cutting sharply through her, "what would you have done had something happened that day? To you and the baby you 'suspected' you had?"

He took another step closer, in her personal space now, his eyes glittering with rage. "Tell me, Felicity, were you ever even going to tell me or was this going to be a secret? Or are there other things I will find out later?"

A spark of anger shot through her veins at that jab, making her eyes narrow at him. "I forgot to tell you because I was too scared of your reaction to the baby, Oliver Queen."

Poking his chest with her finger, she glared at him, throwing caution to the wind. "And you dare accuse me of keeping secrets? What about you? What about what you have not been telling me, asking me to trust you? What about you trusting me, huh?"

His lip curled. "I used to."

Felicity blinked, taking a step back, his words hitting her like a slap to her face. And then the rage assaulted her.

"You _used_ to?" she hissed. " _You used to?_ Excuse me, Mr. Pot, this is Kettle speaking." 

He growled at her and she stepped into his space, her head tilting back, the fire in her veins consuming her.

"You dare say you don't trust me when you have been doing nothing but keep something that's been bothering you for days? And you accuse me because of something so small that..."

"Small?" he roared at her, his voice drowned from the public due to the music. "Small? Fuck, Felicity! Something could have happened to you that day! Something could have happened to the baby! What the fuck would you have done then?"

He suddenly took a hold of her arms, his grip tight, his eyes inflamed. "Tell me would that have been _small?_   You went unprotected when you knew something had been dangerous when you already knew you were carrying our child. Where was the genius, Felicity? Would something happening that day have been _small?_ Do you even care about this baby? Do you even want this baby given how reckless you were? Because from where I am standing, it sure as hell doesn't look like it."

Felicity's mouth opened, her throat tightening as hurt lashed at her heart, battering it, his words cutting right through her chest. She could feel a sheen of moisture getting to her eyes and she blinked them away, shaking his grip off just as regret flashed in his eyes. Something inside her curled into itself, his words replaying in her head and she tightened her jaw, holding the tears she could feel coming.

"Felicity..."

She left the VIP area before he could say another word, leaving him standing alone.

Her mouth trembled as she smiled and waved at Thea near the bar, indicating to her that she was leaving, just as Digg came in, without Roy. Digg took one look at her, stopping in his tracks to Oliver, then looked over her shoulder to no doubt where her husband stood.

She felt something pass between the two men and Digg came to her quietly, escorting her out to the garage. Felicity walked on stiff legs, her mind numbing at the words, at the sheer thought that Oliver, _Oliver,_ could have uttered something like that. The Bentley came in view. Felicity didn't ask where Oliver was, didn't say a word, her jaw clenched so tight it hurt as Digg got behind the wheel in silence and Felicity sat in the passenger seat, quietly.

He pulled out of the space and into the night, and a sob left Felicity, the entire argument, the final words hitting her all over again. How dare he think she didn't care about their baby? How fucking _dare_ he?

"I will hit him for you if you want, you know," Digg spoke quietly in the space between them, handing her a handkerchief with one hand. "I can make it hurt too."

She looked at him for a second, feeling grateful to have him in her corner, feeling even more teary at his offer to punch a man who was his brother in every way for her.

Felicity wiped her eyes with the fabric, knowing the mascara was going to stain it. She didn't say a word, just keeping to herself, to her thoughts, and Digg sighed loudly.

The journey passed in silence as they reached the huge mansion, it's tall gates opening to let them in. Within minutes, Digg stopped the car in the driveway.

Felicity got out slowly, rounding the front to the huge wooden doors, stopping when Digg held her by the arm, looking at her quietly. Felicity hugged him quickly, knowing she would erupt if he gave her a Diggle hug, and left him standing there, hastily going inside.

Without any conscious thought, she moved right instead of taking stairs to the bedroom, her heels tapping on the floor in the sleeping house. The door to her office beckoned her and she entered it, softly shutting the door behind her. Walking to the huge windows, without turning on a single light, she removed her heels on the way, feeling the carpet under her toes, as her feet took her to the couch in front of the blowing curtains.

Sinking into the soft cushions, she lied down, keeping her gaze on the vast stretches of lawn outside, on the few stars she could see, her insides numb as tears slowly dripped sideways into the cushions. 

 

 _Do you even care about this baby?  Do you even want this baby....? Because from where I am standing, it sure as hell doesn't look like it._   

 

She blew out a soft breath, her hand going to her stomach, rubbing it soothingly. Of course she did. She loved their child so much already. She knew Oliver did too. She knew he hadn't meant it. But it _hurt._  It hurt _so damn much._

Felicity didn't know how long she lay there like that, rubbing her stomach and looking out in the dark but after a long time, she heard the door to the office open and close. 

She heard the slight rustle of the fabric of his trousers as he walked to her and she curled in on herself, keeping her eyes straight ahead. 

She saw his legs enter her periphery as he stood there for a long time, staring at her curled up form, not uttering a word, only the sound of their breathing and the clock ticking loud in the room. 

"You should have told me, Felicity," he finally spoke quietly, his voice husky and heavy with something that was not anger. 

She didn't reply. She already knew it. She had already told herself that a hundred times in the last hour. 

He didn't say anything else at all, just stood there, looking. After long, long minutes of heavy silence, Felicity felt her own voice escape before she could stop it, her voice laden with tears and all the hurt she felt, her mouth trembling. 

"I do care about this baby, Oliver."

She heard him groan loudly at her words before suddenly, she was sitting upright, his hands holding her tear-stained face as he knelt before her, his eyes so, so full of regret it made her chest tighten even more. 

"I didn't mean it, солнышко," Oliver said softly. "I'm an ass for saying it. I was so mad at you, for endangering yourself, the baby. You know how I get when it comes to you, Felicity."

She did. She pinched her lips, her jaw trembling. He wiped her tears with his thumbs before sitting on the couch, pulling her on his lap and into his chest, pressing soft kisses to her hair, his hand stroking her spine. And sobs burst out of her, making her shake in his arms as they tightened around her.

"I love this baby, Oliver," she muttered on a hiccup and felt him pull her closer as he kept speaking in her hair.

"I know, Felicity. I know. I'm so sorry for even saying that. I would take it back in a second if I could. I'm so, so sorry, солнышко."

"I'm sorry too."

And she was. She hated fighting with him like this. There were fights and there were _fights._

"Shh," he murmured, keeping her close. "I'm here and I'm so sorry."

"Me too," she blubbered. 

She didn't know how long they sat there like that. His hands never stopped stroking her spine, his lips never stopped pressing kisses to her head, his mouth never stopped whispering apologies in between as she held on to him tightly, murmuring her own apologies, drenching his shirt. The clock kept ticking and they sat in the dark, holding on to each other with everything they had.

After long, long minutes, once her breath quietened, Oliver shifted a little, pulling back his head to look down at her. 

"Come to bed?" the words escaped him as a question and Felicity felt a small smile lift her mouth, knowing the insecurities that still haunted him sometimes, especially in moments like these. 

Felicity tightened her arms around his neck. "Carry me to bed while you still can. I doubt you'll be able to once I blow up like a whale."

She saw his lips twitch at her words. He stood in one smooth motion with her in his arms, secured against his chest, and started walking towards the door. 

"You've seen me do the salmon ladder," he pointed out quietly. 

"I still like to call it Ladder of Lust," she stated, a small grin taking over her lips as she saw him smile, remembering the time she had blurted it out for the first time on his face and he had dissolved into chuckles. 

She knew, as Oliver carried her up the stairs in the dark house, that they would have to talk this out in the morning with clear heads and emotions not running so high on both ends. She knew they'd both have to deal with whatever changes were happening between them with the baby coming. She knew. 

But as she leaned her head against his beating heart, felt the tight warmth of his arms carry her to their bedroom, she didn't care for it. Not at the moment. 

He had sought her out tonight, even though he couldn't have and she wouldn't have held it against him. 

He had sought her out and now carried her back to their room, their bed, their home. 

Her mother's words from the morning rang in her head, the epiphany in them dawning just as Oliver entered the room, closing the door behind them making her understand the words in her bones. 

 

 _"The only way to keep from sinking in that hole is by being together."_  

 

Together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? 
> 
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	8. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> The response to this story is flooring me! Seriously, I had had no idea how amazing the reaction to the last chapter would be, especially for that fight between these two. So, thank you, so very much, for all the staggering responses. They feed my muse like nothing else!
> 
> Here is the next chapter. This is a long one. Stuff happens. Enjoy.
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts! I love hearing from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Felicity knew he was awake.

So was she.

They had both been awake for almost an hour, early for the Sunday mornings they usually spent making love in bed. This Sunday was different. Good different, which was saying something because their usual Sunday mornings were _good._

But this morning, Felicity lay on her back, staring at the mirror that she had grown so attached to over the years, not just because of all the wicked reflections it showed her sometimes, but also because of the moments when their eyes connected in those reflections, when that mirror kept her company as she waited for him to come home. That mirror was a bank of memories since the beginning of their marriage. A milestone recorder of sorts. And she lay, staring at it, at their combined reflections.

She saw her hair fanned out over the pillow on one side, her one shoulder bared from where his soft grey t-shirt had slipped down her arm during the night, her bare legs twined with his bigger, muscular ones. Felicity lazily looked at the way the t-shirt had bunched under her free breasts, and looked at his hand, his moving hand. 

She had woken up with Oliver wrapped around her, like he usually was, his head on her chest, his arm over her waist, his entire frame engulfing hers. But since he had woken up, he had loosened a little, and his arm had pulled back to push his t-shirt that she was wearing up her abdomen, exposing her stomach to the low morning light filtering in through the curtains. Since then, his hand had been drawing inane patterns on the skin of her stomach. Sometimes he just traced her skin with one finger, swirling and making loops and writing words she didn't understand. Sometimes, he covered her midriff with his entire palm and brushed it over and over again, the callouses on his rough, big hands enveloping her stomach and catching on her softer skin. He didn't open his eyes once during it, enjoying the quiet moment; she never broke the silence, content. She just lay back and watched his hand move in the mirror, his breath ghosting over her face, his solid presence beside her, where he belonged. And Felicity loved it, loved this silence, this small moment they had for themselves.

"I trust you."

Felicity blinked at the soft whisper that reached her and broke her gaze away from the mirror, turning her head towards him. He was rumpled, sexily rumpled, his eyes a clear blue, the lines on his forehead relaxed, his scruff heavy on his face as he blinked slowly at her.

She felt her brows furrow slightly. "I know," she whispered back. She did know. Why was he telling her?

His hand stopped on her stomach, just spanning the skin now, as he gazed at her for a long moment. "I said last night that I didn't. I don't want you to ever question that."

This man. Felicity felt a small smile lift her lips, the ache that had resided in her heart last night nothing but a bad memory. It had been a bad night, for both of them. And sleeping it off had definitely cleared her head. She turned on her side to face him, hitching her leg over his thighs, his hand slipping from her stomach to find home at the base of her spine. Lifting her hand to his face, feeling the scruff she loved rasp across her palm, she looked at him. 

"You said a lot of shit things last night, Oliver," she stated, rolling her eyes. He opened his mouth but she put a finger over his lips, shushing him. "You did say them but I know you didn't mean them. I know I should have told you about that man but I honestly just forgot. I was nervous about the baby and breaking that news to you, and it just escaped my mind completely."

He sighed, just blinking at her. She smiled. "You found out at a bad time and you reacted exactly like i knew you would. Yes, you did say some stuff you shouldn't have but it's okay. I know you didn't mean a single one of them. And I don't want you brooding about that and feeling guilty, okay?"

He just raised an eyebrow in response and Felicity rolled her eyes again. "I know you, dear husband of mine. You'll start feeling bad about it the first moment you'll let yourself think."

"I already feel bad about it," he mumbled quietly.

Felicity grinned. "You just proved my point."

He just stared back at her quietly and she sobered a bit then, looking at him seriously. "It was just a huge case of miscommunication, and a bad night. What matters is you came home and we got it out. That's what's important."

He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. "I just... I just don't ever want you to question my trust in you."

Like she ever would. 

Felicity waited a beat before pressing on his shoulder, pushing him on his back. He lay back, slightly surprised, and she straddled him, her thighs bracketing his hips, her core pressing right where he was rapidly hardening. Putting her hands beside his head on the pillow, she leaned down, her face close to his, and looked at him sternly, feeling playful. 

"Now, you listen to me, mister," she spoke softly, rocking her hips once against his, just layers of fabric separating them. "You think of it one more time and you'll be getting none of this" rocked hips "from me."

Oliver looked at her for a second, before a smile tugged at his mouth, his hands cradling her hips. "Are you threatening to withhold sex from me?"

God, she loved his voice. 

"Damn right, I am," she said as sternly as she could, her tummy fluttering at the wicked look that crossed his eyes. 

"I believe you just issued a challenge, Mrs. Smoak-Queen," he murmured, his voice husky, sending tingles through her body. 

"What are you going to do about it, Mr. Queen?" her own voice came out throatier than intended. 

One of his hands gripped the back of her head in response, pulling her face down to his, just as the other settled right over her butt, giving it a solid squeeze that had her hips thrusting into his. Her lips slanted over his, kissing him ardently, loving the fact that he never flipped her over when she took control like this, not unless she really demanded it in some way. 

She let her tongue tease his lips for a second before pulling away, making his hand flex on her head, and nipped his chin, going lower over his neck. She let her mouth taste his skin, her teeth raking over the corded muscles of his neck, nipping at the junction of his shoulder, their hips flexing together now, humping each other. 

"This is you withholding sex?" his breathy voice came from above as she licked a stripe over the line of his pecs, his hand squeezing her butt hard now, making her pulse skitter. 

Felicity pushed down on his hard length deliberately, making him groan, her own desire spiking. "It is. This is foreplay. No one said anything about no foreplay."

Oliver chuckled despite himself, rolling her butt over him with his hand. "I should have known. You're a monster when it comes to sex."

Felicity grinned unabashedly. "Says the man who once sexed me at a party in a bathroom."

"You were wearing that dress. And groping me."

Felicity grinned again shamelessly. "Totally your fault. I don't think I would have been this horny with someone else."

"You wouldn't have been with someone else."

She looked down at his face with raised eyebrows. He returned the exact same look with a stoic face. 

"Green is not your color, Oliver." 

He just smiled, shameless, and pulled her down just as his phone rang. They froze for a second, both of them turning heads to look at the phone like it would leap, before she straightened on him and he picked it up. 

"Queen," he said gruffly in the way of greeting and Felicity rolled her eyes. No one listening to him would think he had his half naked wife straddling his raging erection as he spoke.

And the thought gave Felicity an idea that had her smirking. 

Slowly, deliberately, as he listened to whoever was on the other side, Felicity leaned forward and licked his Bratva tattoo, feeling the way he completely stiffened under her. Gazing up at him, she saw his eyes trained on her, his jaw clenched, eyes so heated it made her wet, and she gave him a smile, keeping their eyes locked together, kissing his nipple once, raking her teeth over his pecs. He exhaled through his mouth, his gaze unwavering and so intense it made a thrill shoot down her spine, giving her the boldness to move lower, to his impeccable abs. 

His hand came up to cradle her head as he spoke in the phone. "What about the other two?"

It reminded her of that time when she had met him at her father's house, of that dinner when she had been rubbing his calf with her heeled foot and he had been discussing business just as quietly, without any indication whatsoever of what had been happening under the table. Smiling at the memory, at his own confession of how aroused he had been then, Felicity went lower on his abs, kissing and licking them with the attention they deserved, feeling the muscles bunch under her mouth, his fingers tightening in her hair, in warning or pleasure, she didn't know. 

"Did they speak to him?"

The phone conversation carried on and Felicity slid lower on his body, kissing his hipbones in exactly the way that made him groan. He bit his lip to keep the sound in, glaring at her, his blown pupils completely rendering the glare moot. Just as she was about to pull the fabric over his erection down, he stopped her. She looked up at him to see his eyes focusing on whatever he was listening to, making her pause, before he spoke curtly. 

"I'll be there in an hour and I want the three of them there."

Uh-oh. Play time was over.  

He cut the call, taking a few deep breaths, before shoving off the bed as she kneeled at the foot of the soft mattress. 

"Something's come up," he said in that same curt voice, walking towards the bathroom, his mind obviously on whatever issue the phone call had been about. 

"Okay," she said, trying to keep the disappointment contained. 

Oliver paused mid-step, then turned, his eyes focusing on her. She didn't know what he was looking for as she sat, messy and rumpled, at the foot of the bed, but whatever he saw had him striding back to her. His hands cupped the side of her face, tilting her head as he loomed over her, and his mouth swooped down on hers, making her gasp in surprise at his sudden assault, his tongue tangling with hers without hesitation, making her heart hammer in her chest as heat pooled low in her stomach. Felicity gripped his wrists as he kissed her relentlessly, for long minutes, before pulling back for air, his eyes piercing hers. 

"We'll talk when I get back tonight," he spoke quietly. 

Felicity licked her lower lip, feeling it tingle, and nodded. "And sex." 

His mouth twitched. "And sex," he agreed. 

She smiled, pushing him away towards the bathroom, and got down from the bed, her stomach grumbling. 

She couldn't have sex, so she'd have the next best thing. Food. 

 

* * *

 

"I'm going to whip your ass with this round," Thea grumbled.

Felicity snorted. "Oh, I'm shaking in my flip flops."

Thea poked her tongue out and went back to focus on the scrabble board between them, sipping from the tall glass of virgin mojito Raisa had made. It was almost noon. After Oliver had left early morning without breakfast, but with another kiss, Felicity had freshened up, fed herself like a horse, and helped Thea with the club's accounts, which had somehow ended with them playing a mean game of Scrabbles. So far, Felicity had won the first round, and given their history, she would win this one too. But they both loved playing too much to let that bother them. 

"So," Thea began as she watched the letters, "why did my brother look like he had swallowed lemons last night after you left?"

"Maybe because he had?" Felicity quipped and Thea chuckled.

"You know I am here to listen if you need to talk, right?"

Felicity looked at her for a second, a smile coming over her lips, nodding. "I know."

Thea smiled back, looking back at the board just as Felicity's phone rang.

She looked down at the caller ID, her smile widening as she picked up the call.

"How is my favorite uncle today?" she chirped into the phone.

"I am your only uncle, принцесса" the voice came back, heavy with Russian accent, full of the love she had heard in it growing up, calling her 'princess' like he always had. No matter how many times they had this conversation, and she had lost count over the years, Anatoly always got ecstatic when she called him her favorite. She never stopped.

"Do you have some time for your uncle today?" he asked.

Felicity grinned, feeling wind pick up with the cloudy sky. "I always have time for you. I came by yesterday but you weren't at the house."

"No, I had some business," he sighed warily, and she could imagine him rubbing a hand over his face. "But have lunch with me today, принцесса?"

"Absolutely," Felicity replied. "I'll meet you at 1?"

"Yes, and bring your tablet," Anatoly said. 

Felicity agreed and cut the call. It was nothing unusual for Anatoly to ask her to bring her tab to their lunches. Over the years, they had started meeting for lunch in the same restaurant where she had met him for the first time after her marriage to Oliver. Whenever he had some technical issues, he always brought them along for her to work her magic on, and once it was put out of the way, they talked. She always looked forward to lunches with him, especially since her father. Anatoly, being the father he had always been to her in every way except blood, had always had her back, even against his oldest friend and brother. 

Shaking her thoughts off, Felicity looked at Thea, who was already shooing her away and getting up.

"You got lucky this time," Thea said in a mock heavy tone.

"I know, right?"

Grinning, she kissed the girl on the cheek, which had become a common occurrence and didn't surprise her as it once had, and left to get dressed.

Dressing herself in a casual blue sundress with black stripes and low heels, Felicity fixed her ponytail and picked up her phone, quickly typing out a text to Oliver.

 

**Felicity** **:** _**I have a lunch date.** _

 

He replied back almost instantly.

 

**Oliver : _Anyone I would know?_**

 

Felicity grinned at the phone.

 

**Felicity : _Maybe. :P_**

 

**Oliver : _Good. I'll know whose bones to break. Enjoy the date. Just not too much._**

 

Giggling at the message, she shook her head.

 

**Felicity : _Gorilla._**

 

**Oliver : _Caveman, baby. ;)_  **

 

How did he still make her get all flustered over texts? Felicity shook her head at the phone, and went down, to see Thea and Roy just getting cozy.

Amused, she cleared her throat, watching them break apart as Thea smirked and Roy kept his face blank. 

"Um, would you like to drive me to town, Roy?" she asked, keeping her voice deliberately innocent. "Or should I ask someone else?"

Roy narrowed his eyes at her and she chuckled. Waving off to Thea, she followed him to the garage, getting in the passenger of her red Mercedes as he slid in behind the wheel and pulled out into the grey day. the roads mostly clear and buildings getting more frequent the deeper they got in the city. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt your, ahem, moment," Felicity spoke, teasing him, seeing the way his mouth perked up.

"Just like I was sorry when I interrupted you a few days ago in the kitchen?" Roy threw back and Felicity snorted, remembering the late night snack she had come down to have and ended up with her butt on the counter and Oliver between her legs.

"But see, the great part about being married is...." she began only for him to interrupt her.

"Felicity, I'll have to bleach my ears if you finish that sentence."

A laugh escaped her at his dry tone as he weaved through the light traffic, the banter between them continuing, keeping the mood light. And that was what Felicity loved about Roy. They had known each other for a decade now. He had been her friend, her rock, for a decade now, having her back even early in her marriage when she had been anything but swoony over her husband, and she loved knowing him like she did. They were family, in more ways that mattered. 

Within a few minutes, he was parking the car in the lot. Felicity got out as he locked the car, and they walked up to the elevators, going up the fifth floor to where the restaurant was located. Roy had been with her on each of the lunches except the first one, so he knew the drill. He'd leave her with Anatoly and roam the stores (mostly looking for stuff for Thea) and when she would be ready to leave, she'd call him. 

Felicity waved at him as she entered the restaurant, the doorman opening the door with a smile for her, and Roy shook his head in exasperation, walking away. With a grin, she walked in, taking in the soft ambiance of the place, the low yellow lights giving it a cozy feel. She headed to the table in the back corner, where she usually sat, and took a seat, waiting for her uncle. 

The cool conditioned air sent a small shiver up her spine, her exposed arms erupting in goosebumps as she took her tablet out from the bag and kept it on the table. Just as she opened an app for programming, the door opened again and Anatoly walked in, just as youthful as ever except for a few extra lines around his eyes, and a warm smile on his lips. 

"Моя милая принцесса."

Shaking her head at the greeting, Felicity got up from the table and hugged him tightly, her face splitting into a smile as his familiar scent surrounded her. He pulled back, looking at her closely.

Felicity raised her eyebrows. "What?" she asked, shuffling under the look. 

He just shook his head, and they took their seats. 

"You look beautiful, принцесса," Anatoly complimented her and she smiled. 

"And you look just as handsome as ever," she teased, watching his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiled. "I preened for you."

Felicity chuckled at that and they ordered their food. Then he turned to her, his eyes serious. 

"You have brought your tablet, no?" he asked, the accent thick in his voice. 

Felicity nodded, leaning forward. "Tell me."

Anatoly looked at her again, with that scrutinizing look, before reaching inside his jacket pocket and taking out a folded piece of paper. He put it on the table between them, pushing it towards her silently. Curious, Felicity reached for it, and unfolded it, frowning at the words on the sheet. It was just a string of words written in Russian. She had no idea what they meant. 

She looked up at Anatoly, her brows furrowing. He knew she couldn't read Russian. 

"What does it say?" she asked, confused, looking at the words again. 

The silence that followed made her look up, only to find him search her face, confusing her even more. And then he spoke. 

"It says you are with child." 

Felicity froze, her eyes swinging up to meet his, every muscle in her body locking to keep her still as her heart thundered in her chest. The quiet words rang loudly inside her head, her hands crumpling the piece of paper in her grip, shaking. Not because Anatoly knew about the pregnancy now, though that made her jittery. No. It was because someone else did, someone who had given this note to Anatoly. Someone who couldn't have known because _no one_ knew. 

Taking a deep breath to get herself under control, she sat straight, her spine a rigid line, and demanded harshly. "How?"

"It is true then?" Anatoly asked in that quiet voice and Felicity watched him for a second, softening a little. This man, who had been a father to her, who had always treated her like a daughter, he would be so happy with the news. 

"Yes," she confirmed. 

She saw the elation on his face and, to her surprise, tears in his eyes. He pinched his lips together, his smile huge on his face and a thumb came up to swipe swiftly under an eye, wiping the small tear that had fallen. Felicity felt her own eyes moisten at his pure joy, at the fact that his dangerous man that so many men had feared for years just cried of joy because she was having a baby. Stretching her hand across the table, she gripped his tightly, his own fingers gripping hers as another tear fell. 

"I'll be a granduncle, принцесса," he spoke, his voice heavy with the tears and Felicity huffed a laugh, nodding.

"Yes, you will be."

He squeezed her hand once before straightening, the smile still on his lips. "When did you find out?"

"Just last week," Felicity said. "Oliver and I just wanted to keep it to ourselves for sometime. Don't tell anyone yet, please."

He nodded seriously, even though the smile stayed. "Of course. It's safe with me. This is such happy news."

Felicity smiled. They stayed silent for a few seconds, the paper in her hand burning her palm with its weight.

Inhaling deeply, she asked. "How did you get this note?"

She saw the older man somber, his eyes going dark as his lips pursed. "I returned to the house late last night. As I was going to the study, I saw a man leave."

Felicity nodded for him to continue. 

"He was not one of ours. By the time I reached he had escaped," Anatoly sighed. "I entered the study and found this on the desk."

Felicity felt the anger rise inside her. "And no one in the house saw this man?"

Anatoly shook his head. Exhaling, Felicity looked at the piece of paper crumpled beyond belief in her hand. And she felt baffled. 

"Why would someone do that?" she asked, completely confounded. "Break into the house, risking death if he was found, just to leave a note saying I'm pregnant. Why?"

Anatoly shook his head again, frustration evident on his face. "I don't know. I'm hoping we can find out once we know who he is."

At Felicity's puzzled look, he explained. "Oliver had suggested I get cameras installed in the study and other places of business without anyone's knowledge, to keep it monitored even if we ever had a mole." 

Nice. Feeling oddly proud and impressed at Oliver's idea, she suddenly caught on. "And you need me to get the footage from last night?" 

Anatoly nodded and Felicity picked up her tablet, putting the paper aside, feeling her mind settle slightly as her fingers swiped the screen and she got in her zone. Anatoly fed her the details whenever she asked, and within two minutes, she was in the house's network and going through the security feed from the previous night. 

"What time exactly?" she asked, looking at the darkened corridor just outside the study door on the screen. 

"Around 12.30, I think," he replied.

Nodding, she pulled up the feed from 12.25 AM and put the tab on the table so he could see. They watched in silence for five minutes, and then she saw the back of a man open the door slowly and enter the study. Squinting to see clearly even with the glasses, she saw the door open after a few seconds and the man exit, keeping his back to the camera. 

And then he turned. 

Her heart stopped, blood leaving her face. 

It was the man from the club, from the Mall who had been clicking her pictures last week, who did not exist on any database on earth.

Her hands started shaking as sweat broke out over her skin, her mind whirring. The man had taken her pictures, he had showed up at the club and disappeared. And then he had gone to her old house to leave a note? Why?

And then her blood froze.

How did he know about the baby?

Her shaking hand automatically went to her stomach, her heart pounding furiously in her chest, her mind closing in on the thought.

_How did he know?_

"Felicity!" she heard Anatoly speak loudly, making her realize he had been calling her name for a while. She looked at his concerned eyes, at his concerned face, and her stomach roiled, only one thought on a loop in her head.

_How did he know?_

Her records were confidential. Dr. Nelson was faithful. There was no way the hospital could have leaked her records. Apart from Oliver and her, no one knew.

_No one_ knew!

_How did he know?_  

She felt the conditioned air get trapped in her lungs, her chest tightening, her nerves stretched taut as the walls closed in on her. She had to get out. She had to get out of the room. She had to speak with Oliver, tell him. Someone knew about their baby. 

Standing up on leaden legs, Felicity looked at Anatoly, her shaky hands quickly putting the tablet and the paper in her bag as she called Roy. 

"I'm ready," she spoke and cut the call, looking at the waitress who had come with their food, and nausea rolled in her stomach, bile rising in her throat as she pushed it back down. Her head was spinning. She had to get out. 

Anatoly gripped her arms and the concern in his eyes made her focus for a second. 

Taking a deep breath, she spoke. "I'm sorry to run out on you like this, Anatoly. But I'll talk to you tonight, I promise."

He looked at her for a long moment before kissing her on the head. "Take care of yourself, принцесса." 

She nodded, her throat tight, and walked out with him, to find Roy waiting. 

She saw Roy take one look at her, his jaw tightening at whatever he saw, and he started walking beside her in absolute silence to the car, not speaking a word, knowing she would tell him whatever was bothering her if she wished to. Her legs shook a bit and she took his arm, feeling his worry but appreciating that he didn't ask. 

Roy opened the car door for her within minutes and she slid in, pulling the seat belt across her torso, her jaw trembling as fear assaulted her heart. 

She closed her eyes and remembered the smile the man had given her at the club, that sinister smile that had sent chills down her spine. Had he known then? Had he known? Why had he gone to her old house straight after? Why had he left that note? 

_How did he know?_  

Roy pulled out of on the road, keeping silent, and Felicity looked up at the sky, the dark clouds, heavy, rolling over the city, casting the sun out. 

Who was that man? Why had he smiled like that?  _How did he know?_  

For the first time, the repeated thought made something inside her rise, something she had not known she had possessed. She steepled her fingers over her stomach, shielding her baby from anything, something so primal inside her raging. It made her tremble with its force, made her heart crack open with its intensity. It was a need to protect, pure and simple. A need she had never felt this magnified in her life. 

But swirling with that was bone deep panic. The more she thought about it, the more frantic she got. Someone had been stalking her, and now this? 

Oliver. She had to talk to Oliver. Just listen to his voice. Just once.

With shaky fingers, she pulled her phone out and called him, putting the phone to her ear, hearing it ring, once, twice-

"солнышко."

His warm voice undid her. She heaved in a loud breath, her jaw trembling, the turmoil inside her crawling beneath her skin.

"Felicity?" she heard his voice change, heard the alertness in it, the concern.

She swallowed, not knowing what to say, how to say, feeling Roy's worried eyes on her in between. She said the only thing she could.

"Oliver."

She heard the heavy silence on the line before he spoke. "Are you both okay?"

Her lips trembled with the effort to keep the torrent in. The baby. Her. They were okay. 

"Yes," she reassured him even as her voice sounded strained to her own ears. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

She heard him take a breath. "Do you want me to come home?"

She did. She wanted to feel his strong arms cocoon her like only he did, ensconce her and their child in absolute safety she only knew with him. She wanted to just look at him and breathe in his scent and feel at home.

Swallowing, she spoke. "Aren't you doing something important?"

"You're more important, Felicity," his low voice spoke softly.

Her heart clenched at his words as she closed her eyes, the man's evil smile the only thing behind her lids, Oliver's voice in her ears. Her own senses were warring with her. 

"Where are you, baby?" he asked softly, talking to her when she didn't respond.

"Heading home," she said. "With Roy."

Oliver stayed silent for a second then spoke. "Why don't you head to the beach and I'll meet you there in a few minutes? Would you like that?"

She felt the love for him assault her senses, knowing what he was trying to do, knowing that the beach was always their special place. He was going to leave whatever he had left their bed in the morning for, to meet her at the beach.

"Yes," she said, biting her lip, the knot in her chest loosening now that she knew she would see him in a few minutes.

She turned to Roy. "The beach," she said and he nodded, understanding, giving her a soft smile that melted her heart.

"I'll be there in a few," Oliver promised in her ear and she focused back on him.

"I'll see you."

He didn't cut the call. Neither did she. And she smiled despite herself.

"Are you smiling?" she heard him ask quietly. Her smile widened slightly.

"Yes."

"Good."

Exhaling softly, feeling somehow better, she spoke. "Now go. I'll see you."

He cut the call then and she inhaled, looking out the window, seeing the familiar road heading to the beach. 

But as the miles passed and the clouds thickened, even as she breathed easier knowing Oliver would be waiting for her, even as her hands steadied and her heart calmed down, one thought haunted her. 

_How did he know?_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> принцесса - Princess  
> Моя милая принцесса - My Little Princess  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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> 
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	9. Feed The Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I am so very sorry for making you all wait for so long. And thank you so much for being so very patient with me and this story. Your amazing response to the last chapter was so fantastic. Thank you!
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Questions will arise more than they are answered but have faith. Stuff happens. 
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts. I love hearing from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

When Felicity had been 6, she had realized that her family had not been like all the other families she'd seen. She had come home from school one day and realized that no other kid had their own companion every day accompanying them, and no other kid had guns lying around in the drawers of the house like candles. It had been a sobering realization, but she still remembered that night, when Anatoly had come in her room with her father while her mother had stood on the threshold, smiling in support, and told her that her family was different and she was never to tell anyone about any of it. That had also been the night she had been told to not make any friends, for her own safety and for the safety of her family. 

Little Felicity had agreed to what they had said, holding her stuffed elephant closer to her with big eyes, even though she'd wanted nothing more than to speak with the girls in her class and smile at the boy who had helped her. She'd stifled those urges and listened to her family. 

A few years later, she'd been told that her family extended beyond the blood. The Bratva. She'd been explained by the two men she had loved the most exactly what the Bratva was and when she'd asked her father if they were good people, her father had smiled and said, "There is nothing good or bad in our world, Felicity. It's only family."

Felicity had understood, then, that the good and bad she read about in stories, the black and white as she saw it, did not exist in their world. She'd understood, and the little girl she had been had feared it. Because happy endings had only worked for good people. She hadn't been bad, but she hadn't been good. And the life she'd been leading, with no friends and no social bonds, with men who saw her as a daughter or little sister, she'd been certain she'd never have anyone who would understand her, especially since she hardly understood herself in her world.

As she lay alone on the bed, the sheets tangled around her feet, only the light from outside penetrating the room, Felicity looked up at the mirror and tugged Oliver's t-shirt up, baring her stomach to her eyes. She saw herself caress the skin in her reflection, saw her small hands move over her still normal tummy, her hands whispering over the life that lay cradled inside her, the life she and Oliver had created. And as Felicity stroked her skin, waiting for Oliver to return home from an overly long meeting, she knew family had changed for her. Oliver had become her family long ago. Now, it was the baby with them. 

Felicity kept softly moving her hands up and down. 

It had been a week since her fateful lunch with Anatoly. A week since she'd realized that someone, a man, had been watching her and her family closer than she would have thought. A week since she'd rushed to their beach to meet her husband, panicked and strung. She closed her eyes, feeling her hands over her belly, remembering. 

Oliver had been standing beside the Bentley with Digg, as promised, leaning against the car, waiting for her. The moment Roy had stopped the Mercedes, her door had been pulled open and she had thrown herself into his arms, letting her heart calm down, letting the scent of his body envelop her, letting the heat of his muscles lull her. Oliver had held her for a long time, silently rubbing her back while she'd just held on to him, feeling safe and protected and completely at home. She hadn't even realized when Digg and Roy had left in her car, hadn't even realized for how long they'd stood there, hadn't even realized until he'd pulled back slightly, looking at her with concerned eyes, full of questions he hadn't asked. 

But she'd blurted out. She'd spilled everything, from the lunch to the break-in at her old house to seeing the man. She'd pulled the crumpled note from her bag and showed it to him, watched his face darkening with rage as he'd stilled even more, and then she'd showed him the footage, knowing he'd recognize the man from the club. Oliver had looked at the tablet for a long time, his entire body still, unnaturally still, his eyes furious and hands gripping the device like he would break it, and slowly, he'd lifted his gaze to Felicity. 

And then, he had pulled her into his body, his arms tight around her, caging her in, his body vibrating with the anger she'd felt rolling off of him. Slowly, turning his head into her neck, he'd whispered, "He will die, Felicity." 

Felicity shivered, even now, remembering the cold, lethal way he had stated it. She knew he had been terrified, almost as much as she had been. She knew he had been enraged, almost as much as she had been. But she also knew the need that burned in him everyday to eliminate any threat to them. And she knew, just as he'd promised, the man would die. Not that she was complaining. He had surpassed creepy days ago, bordering on dangerous, not just to her but her family.

It had been a week and she still hadn't figured out where he'd gotten the information from. It had been a week and she knew Oliver was looking into it as well, but they had had no results. The man was a ghost. An apparition. He had showed himself twice in a day and then vanished for a week, without a trace. And it was scaring her. This calm was too calm. Her hand tightened over her stomach. 

The sound of something creaking outside the door made her blink open her eyes and turn her head. She watched the light under the door, and saw a shadow move outside, making her frown. The house was quiet since it was almost midnight, and everyone was asleep, except Thea who had left for the club hours ago, and their bedroom was at the end of a corridor upstairs so there was absolutely no reason for anyone to be on this side of the house unless it was Oliver. But Oliver wouldn't lurk outside. 

Sitting straight up on the bed, keeping her eyes glued to the hovering shadow outside the door, Felicity felt uneasiness crawl up her spine. Why would someone be lurking outside her door in the middle of the night? Slowly, carefully, she stepped down on the floor on her toes, careful not to make a sound, to not even breathe heavily, and tiptoed to the chest of drawers in the corner where she knew Oliver kept a spare gun. Even though she wasn't very good with it, despite Digg's training as he had tried to teach her multiple times, she knew she could do some serious damage in close range.

Heart pounding, she kept her eyes locked on the shadow, and quietly pulled the drawer open, searching for the gun under the t-shirts. Her hands touched the cool metal and she pulled it out, straightening her arms, turning the safety off. The shadow outside didn't move and she frowned, even as her heart beat erratically. Of course the house was safe, but the frisson of fear, especially after everything else that had happened, washed over her nerves, stringing them tight. 

Picking up her phone with one hand, she put it on silent, to not alert whoever was outside, and called Roy, letting his phone ring to wake him up, and typed a quick text.

 

**Felicity : _Someone outside my door. I'm armed._**

 

She waited for a beat. His reply didn't come and she glanced at her phone, wondering if he was still asleep. She called him one more time, and resent the text. No reply. 

A wave of discomfort washed over her. This wasn't normal. She knew Roy was a light sleeper. He should have replied. Unless he couldn't. Her eyes widened at the thought, lingering on the shadow that still hadn't moved and her hand holding the gun trembled. Swallowing, she quickly opened Oliver's contact and typed a text.

 

**Felicity : _Someone outside the bedroom door. I have your gun. I'm calling you but won't speak._**

  

She called him and put the phone to her ear, the sound of the ring mingling with the sound of blood pounding. Oliver picked up on the second ring, his voice rough. 

"Do not go outside, Felicity," he ordered loudly, and deja-vu hit her hard. This was so like the time when she had run away from Ray Palmer and Ilyich's goons, with Oliver's voice guiding her. 

She didn't say a word, but heard him breathe, as he evidently tried to calm himself. 

"I'll be there in a few minutes," he spoke, his voice quieter but not any less frantic. "I want you to lock the door and stay armed. Do not, I repeat, _do not_ open the door for anyone but me."

Exhaling silently, her heart hammering loudly in her chest, she tiptoed across the room to the door. 

"Felicity? You are there, right?" she heard Oliver ask suddenly, his voice slightly panicked. "Felicity?"

Bringing the phone to her mouth, she exhaled, letting him know she was. She reached the door and quietly turned the lock, backing away from the layer of wood keeping whatever was on the other side _on_ the other side.

"Digg, call Nik," she heard Oliver speak on the side. "Tell him to go up with Roy and see the bedroom. I want to know exactly who it is and I want to know _now!"_

Felicity gulped, keeping her arm trained on the door, watching the shadow under it. It wasn't even flickering. Why?

She sat still, watching silently for a minute, listening to Oliver speak to Digg on the other side with half a ear but her mind was distracted. It had been more than a few minutes. The shadow wasn't even flickering. Why wasn't it flickering? Why was it not moving at all? Who was outside?

Blood rushing through her veins, Felicity wet her lips and softly spoke into the phone, her mind coming up with ugly ideas.

"Oliver?" she whispered as quietly as she could, biting her lips, sitting in the dark and watching the motionless shadow. 

"I'm here," Oliver replied immediately. "Are you okay?" 

"Oliver, the shadow isn't moving," she whispered silently. 

There was a beat of silence before Oliver spoke. "Felicity, stay inside." 

She kept looking under the door, awful scenarios filling up her head. "It was moving and now it's completely still." 

Oliver's voice came roughly. "Felicity, we'll be there in a few minutes. Whoever it is can wait. _Digg, where is Nik?"_

"He isn't picking up," Digg's voice replied and Felicity felt lead settle in her stomach. 

"Roy wasn't replying either," she murmured, her eyes widening as a horrifying realization settled in the pit of her stomach. "Oliver, I need to see if it's one of them."

"Felicity, stay inside!" Oliver ground out, and she could almost envision him clenching his jaw. "Don't you dare walk towards the door. It could be a trap." 

It could be. But the shadow had been still for too long, and her acid roiled inside her even at the thought of something happening to Roy or the big, kind security guy who was Digg's second in command. She stood up, uncertain, and stayed on her feet, unsure of what to do. A part of her wanted to wait for Oliver and Digg, wanted to stay behind the safety of her bedroom. Another part wanted to check and make sure Roy and Nik were okay. 

"Oliver..."

 _"God damn it,_ _think of the baby, Felicity!"_ Oliver roared out and she blinked in surprise, knowing he had inadvertently just told Digg the news. He exhaled, his voice more in control. "Felicity, we'll be there in a while. Just stay there."

Felicity nodded, almost sitting back down, when she saw something seep under the door. Something red. _Blood._

Her heart stopped, before thrashing madly, her hand shaking a little as bile rose up in her throat.

"There is blood on the floor," she stated silently, watching in horror as the blood inched its way inside the bedroom from under the door, her pulse spiking.

"Felicity..."

She stood up, pointing the gun at the door. "I'm going out, Oliver," she whispered. "I'm not going to sit on my hands while someone bleeds outside my door."

_"Damn it! Just.."_

"I have the gun, and I'll use it, but I'm going out," she stated, her tone rigid, brooking no arguments and she heard Oliver curse profusely before telling Digg to drive faster.

"I'm putting the phone down," Felicity said and Oliver roared again. "Don't you dare!"

"Oliver, I need both my hands free," she argued logically and heard the absolute desperation in his voice when he spoke. "Felicity, please just _stay inside."_

She inhaled deeply, wanting nothing more than for him to get home, and steeled her spine. "I'm not cutting the line, just putting the phone down. Give me a few seconds."

Before he could argue, Felicity put the phone down on the bed and gripped the gun with both hands like Digg had taught her, inching her way closer to the door, side stepping the blood. Closing her eyes, she exhaled once, calling upon all her strength and ignoring her fraught nerves, and gripped the knob with one hand. She had to do it. She could be walking right into a trap, and she knew she had their baby to protect, but she couldn't let anyone bleed outside. Not Roy. Not Nik. She had to do it. 

Nodding to herself, Felicity unlocked the door and twisted the knob, her grip on the gun tightening and her finger resting just under the trigger, ready to shoot at the drop of a hat. She pulled the door open, peeking out in the dimly lit corridor, just as a body slumped into the bedroom from where it had been leaning against the wood. 

Felicity jumped back to avoid it, gasping as she saw Raisa, unconscious Raisa, with a stab wound in her belly, bleeding out all over the floor. _Raisa?_

Heart pounding, she leaned down to check her pulse with one hand, keeping her eyes in the corridor for any sign of movement, and felt the low but slight throbbing that told her she was alive. But her skin was paling and she was bleeding out fast. She had to tell Oliver. 

Straightening up on her legs, she almost turned in the room when she caught a flicker of movement near the stairs. Gripping the gun with both hands, she stepped forward quietly, her heart thundering in her chest, watching the form of a man materialize from the shadows. It was one of the security people, most probably on a round. 

"Hey," she called out to him, relaxing a bit, and watched him turn towards her. "I need your help."

The man, tall and heavyset, with a heavy beard and dark eyes, stepped forward and Felicity looked at his face, that same uneasiness clawing over her at the look in his eyes. That was not a very helpful look. Not at all. 

Straightening her arms again, she pointed the gun at the man.

"Stay right where you are," she ordered, her voice thankfully free from any nerves she could feel assaulting her senses.

The man took another step.

"I said don't move!" she shouted, wanting to wake the entire house. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't move, didn't speak, just stayed. The coppery stench of blood came to her, reminding her of a bleeding Raisa. It also made nausea roil in her stomach, reminding her of the baby. But she stayed, unmoving, staring at the man over the gun.

"Tell me!" she demanded loudly.

Just then, the man moved suddenly, his hand going to his hip where his gun was holstered, and Felicity's eyes widened. 

"Don't move," she shouted once more but he didn't heed, his hand pulling out his weapon. 

And Felicity fired before she could stop, her finger pulling the trigger back, her arm suddenly jostling with the recoil, her heart ready to burst out of her chest as adrenaline hit its peak, and saw the man cry out in pain and fall on his knees. She heard the house suddenly come alive at the sound of the gunshot, heard the sounds of doors opening and men talking but she stayed on the spot, her gun never moving from the man on the floor, watching the blood seep out from his shoulder where she had shot him. 

"What the...?"

She saw Roy stand at the edge of the corridor, in his t-shirt and sweats, his eyes wide as he looked at the scene before him and pointed the gun he'd been carrying to the man on the floor. 

"You okay?" he asked her and she nodded, unable to move, frozen on the spot. 

"Get the doctor, Roy," she spoke, just a slight tremor in her voice. "Raisa's been stabbed." 

Roy looked behind him to someone else and relayed the message urgently, not moving from his spot. 

"What the hell happened?" he asked but she shook her head, unable to explain at the moment, feeling something wet touch her bare feet. She looked down, seeing Raisa's blood seep under her skin, and the nausea she'd been containing bubbled up again. She grit her teeth, removing her gaze, and not moving to not trail the blood, just as the main doors slammed into the wall downstairs.

_"Felicity!"_

She heard Oliver's frantic voice scream her name from below, and relief rushed over her so acutely it made her hands shake. She saw him rush into the corridor within seconds with Digg behind him, his eyes wild, the crazed look in them something she had never seen in her life. He didn't stop to take in the writhing security guy, didn't pause to spare Roy a glance, didn't halt to look at the blood on the floor. His eyes zoned in on her and before she could blink, he was right there, right against her, pulling her into his body roughly, his arms going around her back and his face burying itself in her neck. She heard his harsh breaths, felt the feral pounding of his heart, and slowly, the adrenaline seeped out of her skin, the gun in her hand clattering to the floor as she wound her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly into her body, not an inch of space between them.

"I heard the gunshot and I..." he uttered roughly, his arms tightening around her and she gripped him back, her own heart pounding madly as everything rushed over her.

They stood that way for a long time, just clinging to each other as their breathing slowed down. She felt his big hand grip the base of her spine and the other hold the back of her head, keeping her right against him for long minutes. Slowly, Oliver pulled his face from her neck, leaning his forehead against hers, their noses touching, their eyes closed, just sharing the same air. After long, long seconds, he pulled back, his blue eyes still slightly wild but not as much as before, roving over her face, before he stepped back, checking for any injuries. Gradually, seeming to realize where they were, she saw him straighten and his eyes harden as he turned to finally take in the scene, his hands never moving away from her body.

Roy and Digg were carefully walking around them to Raisa while two other guys stood with Nik, looking down at the guy she had shot.

Oliver took in the scene and she felt his body tense against hers.

"The doc's in the med room," one guy informed them and Oliver nodded, looking at Digg. They did the testosterone version of silent communication and Digg wordlessly picked up Raisa followed by Roy, blood and all, and walked around them again towards the stairs, to take her to the med room downstairs, where all the injuries in the house were patched up with the aid of a brilliant doctor who'd been with Oliver for almost a decade. Felicity felt the trembling in her body as she stood there and the rush washed out, and swallowed down the bile at the stench of blood.

"Take him to the basement, Nik," Oliver addressed the tall, gargantuan, bald but kind Russian, nodding towards the man on the floor. "Detain him. I want to ask some questions."

Felicity shivered at the hard tone, seeing the absolute rage on his face now that he had calmed down. The men nodded and picked up the fallen man, making him cry out sharply and Felicity winced, watching them walk away too.

Once the corridor was clear, except for them, Oliver turned to her, his expression switching from furious to fearful to furious again, and he grit his teeth. Felicity knew what he was going to say, and she knew she would probably have said the same thing in his place, but right at the moment, she needed to have an overdue puke privately and he needed to tend to Raisa and the creepy security guy. She could wait. 

"Go," she spoke quietly before he could even open his mouth, and saw his lips purse in a hard line, his eyes narrowing. 

She sighed, squeezing his hand softly in reassurance. "Go, take care of Raisa. I need to wash off my feet."

His gaze swung down to her feet at her words, and she saw his eyes widen slightly. 

"солнышко"

She conjured a little smile for him and pushed at him. "Send Roy to stay with me. Don't worry."

Oliver looked at her for a moment, taking in her face. Suddenly, he picked her up in his arms and walked into the bedroom, sidestepping the blood on the floor, and she gripped his shoulders, keeping her eyes on his clenched jaw. 

Oliver opened the door to the bathroom with her in his arms, and walked inside, depositing her on the counter. 

He stood there for a second, his hands gripping her waist, his eyes heavy.

"Shower or bath?" he asked, his voice low, rough.

Felicity gazed up at him, at the blue, blue eyes and murmured. "Shower."

Oliver nodded, taking a step back, his hand cupping her stomach, and gazed right at her, into her eyes. "I'll ask Roy to wait in the room for you. Don't go anywhere without him."

Nodding, seeing the fear still lurking in his eyes, she cupped his jaw, blinking up at him.

"We are okay, Oliver," she spoke, reassuring him, and saw his eyes flutter close at her words. 

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly, his lips brushing against her skin in the ghost of a sensation, and pulled away. "We'll talk later." 

Felicity nodded. "Go."

He walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. A few seconds later, he reopened the door and put some clothes on the counter beside her, walking out without a word. Taking a deep breath, she stripped the t-shirt over her head, and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down her body, over her feet, the red swirling and draining away slowly as she scrubbed and scrubbed it off, the nausea calm inside her thankfully. Within a few minutes, completely clean and externally bloodless, Felicity dressed herself in the loose pants and t-shirt Oliver had left for her and stepped out into the bedroom, to find Roy standing in the corridor, manning the door. 

He looked back when she entered. 

"I want to go see Raisa," Felicity told him, pushing her feet into flipflops. 

Roy nodded, lingering behind the pool of blood. "That was one hell of a shot," he muttered, the praise in his voice evident.

For the first time in the night, Felicity felt amusement wash over her. Walking to the door, she smiled. "I was aiming for his leg."

Roy's eyes widened slightly before she saw him grin a little and shake his head.  

"Why weren't you answering your phone?" she asked, sobering, combing the tangles out of her wet hair with her fingers. "I was worried about you." 

Roy frowned at her question. "I didn't get any calls from you, Felicity."

Her hand stopped and she looked at him, her brows furrowing. "I called you twice. I even sent a text." 

Roy pulled his phone out from his pocket, glancing down at it, before shaking his head. "Nothing."

Felicity stayed silent, her mind whirring, unable to grasp at anything substantial as they shut the door behind them, avoiding the blood on the floor, and walked towards the stairs. 

"What the hell is going on?" Roy mused out loud and she pursed her mouth, heading to the med room in the completely lit up house, watching the bustle of men as they all worked, awake after the gunshot.

It didn't make sense.

Someone had stabbed Raisa and dumped her outside their bedroom door, without any note, without anything, in the middle of the night. Then a security guy had acted weird and creepy and tried to hurt her. And now this. Her calls had never reached Roy? How was that even possible? There were no blockers in the mansion and there was no way a call couldn't be placed within a mile radius without bugging. But she hadn't been bugged. Had he been bugged? But why?

What the hell was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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	10. Friction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> First, you guys are flooring me! Seriously, you are so amazing with all the wonderful feedback everywhere! It makes me so immensely happy I cannot even begin to tell you. So, thanks a ton for all the love and support and the patience with this story :)
> 
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> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
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> Happy reading!!!

She was sleepy. 

The entire hallway was buzzing with activity, in the middle of the night. There were a few men stationed outside the closed doors of the med room, a few rushing outside to patrol the property for any other intruders, and a few heading for the basement where the shot guard had been taken. 

Felicity leaned against the wall opposite the medical room and Roy stood vigil by her side, glaring at everyone. She could understand his wariness. She felt it. Although she hadn't known the man she'd shot, she did know most of the men. She interacted with them and made jokes with them on a daily basis. Just the thought that one of them could have betrayed her, betrayed Oliver, was enough to make her wary too. She looked at the two men standing beside the doors, their faces devoid of any expression. The blank face mode was activated, basically in default for every man she knew, when shit hit the fan, so to speak. Especially Oliver.

Felicity crossed her arms over her chest protectively, the realization of what she had done, how close she had put their baby in danger, setting in and making her queasy. She hadn't realized it with the adrenaline buzzing in her system, but it had been a close call. A  _very_  close call. What if the guard had had an accomplice waiting outside? What if the man who had stabbed Raisa had been lurking in the shadows? What if it hadn't been Raisa at all but someone luring her out? She'd have walked right into a trap. One blow to her stomach could have proven fatal to the life inside her. Fuck. 

Closing her eyes, she exhaled deeply. There was no point in lingering on the what ifs. There was no point in thinking about what might have been. Fact was, she was okay and the baby was okay and that was it. 

Feeling the gratefulness wash over her, the relief stark in the face of the last hour, Felicity looked at the closed doors again. The doctor was patching up Raisa inside, and Felicity needed to know if the older woman was alright. Over the last two years, Raisa had become a cross between beloved aunt she had never had and a second mother. She scolded and mothered everyone around her and Felicity did not understand why anyone would want to hurt such a gentle soul. More importantly, Felicity knew what Raisa was to Oliver. It would shake him to his very core if something happened to her. And she was pretty certain Raisa suspected she was pregnant. But why her?

Looking at the smooth, polished wood, Felicity frowned. Something had been happening in the last few weeks. She could feel it in her bones and this attack on Raisa was not the end of it. Someone had come inside the mansion and hurt Raisa. Felicity knew the mansion's security was even better than her parent's house's. Someone breaking in the latter she could still understand. But this? Oliver and Digg monitored the security themselves. There was no way anyone could have gotten in without inside help. The guard she had shot could be it. But was he the only one? And who wanted to break in? And why? Whatever it was, they needed to find out soon and stop it. Another thing that baffled her was the phone problem. How could her calls not have gotten through to Roy and Digg's to Nik? There had to be some valid explanation for this. 

"Roy?" she asked quietly. 

He turned his face towards her, his eyes alert, silently asking her to go on. 

"I need your phone in the morning," she spoke in the same quiet voice, just so he could hear. "I want to know why it didn't get any of my calls or text." 

He nodded, opening his mouth before shutting it, and looked away. Felicity frowned, tugging on his sleeve, turning him back to face her, indecisiveness evident on his face. She raised her eyebrows in inquiry and saw him take a breath before he spoke, his voice quieter than hers had been. 

"I don't get one thing," he spoke in a low tone and Felicity leaned closer to hear better. "Whoever stabbed her knew where your room was obviously. He left her outside your door to send a kind of message, which meant he knew you were alone. Why attack Raisa though?"

Felicity felt her brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

Roy looked around before whispering again. "I mean if I had to send you or Oliver a message by placing someone outside your door, I'd choose someone who lived on your side of the house. There were so many people who would have made an easier target that way, including me, or god forbid, Thea. So, why did the guy go to the opposite side of the house, stab Raisa, and carry her all the way back to your door? Why when he could save himself an entire trip and still send the same message?" 

"Maybe because she doesn't know how to fight?" Felicity offered, her mind whirring. 

Roy shook his head. "Even then, there are other options. That's what is bugging me the most."

Felicity felt her blood cool with each word, her mind racing. What Roy said made sense. Why? Why attack Raisa? If it was personal, which she could not understand since the woman was the kindest she had ever met, why not just leave her in her room? Who had this entire night been about? Raisa? Or her? Or had it been for Oliver? To mock him in his absence? 

She glanced at Roy, the expression on his face bothered, and felt the same bother inside her. They needed answers and they needed them fast. Maybe Oliver would get them first. She looked towards the end of the hallway, surmising. Oliver and Digg were in the basement with their prisoner. She knew men shuddered at the thought of being interrogated by her husband. She knew he had a reputation. And while it still bothered her some, it was their family on the line. She wanted answers. 

The sound of the door opening drew her head back to it, breaking her out of her thoughts. She saw the doctor step outside, sweat marring his white brow, the wrinkles in his face even more stark with his frown. He looked at her with cool dark eyes, then at Roy, and back at her. 

"Where is Oliver? I have to speak to him," he said, his accent thick, his voice laden with tension. He was a fantastic at what he did, no doubt, but he was a chauvinistic pig. And every encounter she'd had with the man had not endeared him any to her. Or vice versa. 

"He is busy," she replied, trying to keep her voice neutral, her concern out weighing everything else. "How is Raisa?"

"She will live, the doctor replied, his dark eyes considering her, his height putting her just a few inches above her. "But I only talk to him."   

Frustration burning inside her, Felicity pushed off from the wall, straightening to her full height, taking a step towards him, her eyes narrowing. "Well, that's too bad. He is busy. But I am here. And since I have the authority in his absence, I guess you'll just have to speak with me." 

The man opened his mouth but Felicity raised a hand, cutting him off. "I want to know how she is. You can argue about authority later with Oliver. I'm sure he'd love to hear about it from you." 

His mouth closed so fast it would have been comical had it not been such a grave situation. Everyone knew Oliver respected her as a woman, and her right as his wife, his partner. He was vocal about it to anyone who dared question it. Felicity remembered the one man, older man, who had once talked to Oliver about the matter, about the ways of their world and how it had been wrong. He'd been gone by the morning. 

The doctor pursed his lips, his eyes narrowed behind his round glasses, and spoke begrudgingly, in a halting tone. "She lost a lot of blood but I have stabilized her. The wound is deep, but missed any organs thankfully. She is sleeping now. I have written medicines for her." 

Felicity nodded, relieved. "And how long till she's completely recovered?"

The doctor shrugged. "A few weeks. She should completely rest for one week at least. I will tell more about it when I see her then." 

Nodding again, Felicity mustered a small smile. "Thank you. You can wait for Oliver in his study. I'm sure he'll be with you in a few minutes."

The doctor nodded and went back inside to get his bag, leaving the door open. Felicity nodded to one of the men positioned beside the door, and he stepped forward, ready to escort the doctor to the study. Sighing, letting him leave, Felicity stepped inside the med room, her eyes finding Raisa on the bed in the center, the bed once Roy had occupied when he'd taken an arrow for her. The room was well lit, the curtains drawn shut, the bed in the center the only furniture in the room aside from two chairs and a chest of drawers. Roy shut the door behind them, walking with her to the bed. 

Raisa was sleeping, her face pale, her dark hair in stark contrast to the colorless skin. Two tubes were attached to her arms, a blanket draped over her body, hiding the bandage she knew would be underneath it. Felicity took the woman's hand in hers, feeling the coldness of her flesh, the rise and fall of her chest the only indication of life. Standing beside the older woman, Felicity started when the door burst open, watching Roy's hand fly to his gun from the corner of her eyes before turning to look at the door. 

Thea walked in, closing the door behind her, her eyes resting on Raisa's sleeping form, her hair disheveled from running fingers, as Felicity suspected, mascara trailing down her cheeks. The horror in the girl's eyes broke her heart. Raisa was the only parental figure she knew, and she couldn't imagine what it must be like for Thea, to see her so pale and so motionless.

"I came as soon as I heard," Thea uttered, stepping beside Roy and taking a hold of his hand, her eyes on Raisa for a long minute before she looked up at them both. "What the hell happened?"

Felicity heard Roy recount everything to Thea, her eyes staying on the younger girl. Felicity stepped back after squeezing Raisa's hand once just as Thea turned to her, her eyes wide and mouth open. "Are you okay?"

Felicity nodded, giving her a small smile. "I'm fine," she paused, looking back at Raisa. "I just don't understand how anyone could have done this to her." 

"I know," Thea sighed. 

They stood in silence for a long time. Felicity felt the ache in her back, from standing ramrod straight with tension for such a long time, throb. The urge to do nothing but lie in bed and sleep for hours washed over her, but she stayed in place, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep anyways. Not until Oliver came up. They needed to talk. 

She glanced at Roy and Thea, watching them stand huddled together, his arm around her comfortingly, and felt a smile on her lips. She remembered how they had been once, right in the beginning. And how far they'd come. All of them. 

And she bit her lip. 

Oliver had told Digg about the baby, although he had been shouting at her, but bottom line was that Digg knew. And with everything else going on, it was only fair they knew too. But she couldn't tell them without Oliver. He should have the moment to tell his sister. She stayed silent, gnawing at her lip, the ache in her back intensifying. And suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over her. 

Felicity gripped the bed, steadying herself, looking at Roy and Thea to see if they'd noticed. They hadn't. Exhaling in relief, Felicity straightened a bit, ignoring the vertigo-ish feeling hitting her body. She should probably go back to bed. It had been a stressful day. Emphasis on stressful. 

"Um," she began quietly, not wanting to interrupt any moment. "I'm going back to bed."

Roy looked up and nodded. "I'll take you up." 

She shook her head in protest. "Roy, it's just to my room."

"The same room which could have been attacked tonight," he reminded her grimly. "I'll rest easier. And Oliver wouldn't kill me."

Felicity sighed. "Fine." She looked at Thea. "Are you going up?"

The younger girl shook her head, heading towards the chair on the other side of the bed. "I want to sit with Raisa for a while."

Felicity felt her heart clench and walked over to her, pulling her in her embrace, hugging her tightly. "She'll be okay, Thea," she whispered softly into her hair. 

Thea nodded against her neck, her arms tightening around her. "I'm so glad you are okay too."

Felicity pulled back, smiling, and bid her a goodnight, heading to the door with Roy on her heels. Two men stationed outside the door gave her a nod and she acknowledged it with one of her own, heading towards the staircase leading up to the bedroom. Just as she climbed a step, another bout of dizziness hit, hard, and she stopped, gripping the banister, inhaling deeply. 

"Felicity?" she heard Roy ask from beside her, his hand taking a hold of her arm, the worry in his voice evident. 

She swallowed, blinking a few times to clear her vision. "I'm okay. It's just the stress I think." 

"You should sleep." Roy frowned. "I'll carry you up." 

Straightening at his words, Felicity felt a smile curve her lips. "You'll carry me up and blame me for your broken back?" 

Roy grinned, climbing the stairs slowly beside her. "Give me some credit. Oliver carries you around all the time. I don't see you telling him he'll break his back." 

"Oh, I do tell him," she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. "But his back breaking is of a completely different kind." 

The disgusted look on Roy's face made a laugh burst out of her. They reached the landing and walked to her door, no trace of any blood anywhere on the floor. Someone must have cleaned it up. Bidding Roy a goodnight, telling him to go down to Thea, Felicity stepped inside the bedroom, closing the door behind her, her eyes falling on her husband, surprised to find him there. 

Oliver sat on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, his shoulders hunched, his face in his hands, wet hair gleaming in the muted lights of the room. He'd come out of the shower, clearly. Seeing he was inside, Felicity locked the door, her eyes on him. He didn't even look up at the sound, his figure silent and face hidden. Heart clenching at the way he sat, she walked up to him, the sound of her steps muted by the carpet, and stopped right in front of him. 

He didn't look up. For a long minute. He didn't do anything except put his hands on her waist. His fingers flexed around her hips, tightening, his head bowed.

Slowly, he spread his legs slightly, tugging her in the space between them. Felicity didn't resist when he pulled her flush, resting his head right on her stomach, his fingers gripping her waist  _hard_. She wanted to see his face, to see his eyes and understand what was making him sit like this. But he kept his head pressed to her stomach. Felicity felt her heart ache for him. She raised her hands to his wet hair, brushing through the strands slowly with her fingers, over and over again, touching the back of his head, feeling the contour of it in her palms, before letting her fingers drift down to his warm neck, slowly massaging the knots of muscles she could feel. He was wound up. She felt his breaths against the cotton of her t-shirt, his exhales warm but heavy, his head burrowed in her stomach, his hair creating a damp spot on the fabric, but she didn't mind. He was seeking some kind of solace. She let him take it.

In complete silence, she stood between his legs, her own chest heaving with even breaths, the hard muscles of his chest pressed against her thighs, his strong biceps wrapped around her hips, the knots in his shoulders loosening as she rubbed and massaged it gently, feeling his body relax against her. 

They stayed that way for long, long minutes. Finally, after a while, he looked up at her, and her breath hitched in her throat. His eyes, his blue, blue eyes, were absolutely  _furious_. He was  _furious._  Oh shit.

"Oliver..." she began, trying to take a step back but his grip held her still, trapped in his hold, his face telling her clearly how enraged he was. A muscle in his scruffy jaw ticked as he clenched it. 

"What, Felicity?" he asked softly, the very softness in his voice belying the hardness in his gaze.

She swallowed, her stomach knotting, her heart picking up pace at seeing all that anger directed at her. "Um. I..." she didn't know what to say, what she could say to make it better. Damn.  

"You what, Felicity?" he asked, again in that soft tone. 

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and opened it again, locking gazes with him. She gripped his shoulders, rubbing the warm muscles soothingly. "I did what I had to do." 

She saw his jaw clench tightly, his eyes blazing as he suddenly released her from his grip, pushing away from the bed. He walked around her to the other side of the room, standing beside the window, facing away from her.  _Uh-oh._

The following silence pressed down upon her heavily. Felicity could feel the apprehension knotting in her stomach, tightening her chest. She opened her mouth to break the tensed quiet in the room, but promptly shut it again, knowing anything she said right at the moment would only anger him more. But the silence was getting to her, making her palms sweat. 

"Did you know the corridor was empty?"

He finally broke the silence, his words quiet, his tone even, his hand on the window sill beside him.

She gulped, closing her eyes, her pulse racing. "No."

The muscles in his back flexed, as she watched, rendering her massage useless. Sort of. Then the muscles tensed. 

"Did you know there would only be one guard?"

Same tone. Felicity exhaled. "No."

His hands came beside him, clenched into fists. Shit. 

"Did you know it wasn't someone pretending to be unconscious?" 

She closed her eyes, whispering. "No." 

He turned around then, facing her, his face completely devoid of all expression. Like when shit hit the fan. Fuck.

His eyes held hers, pinning her to the spot. She forgot sometimes, in all his gentleness, how  _intense_  his eyes could be. The intensity was hitting her right in her solar plexus, making her bite her lip as she stared back at him, a small pang of hurt washing through her at the wall he'd put up to hide his emotions.

"What did you know, Felicity?" 

And the hurt morphed into anger. She felt her hackles rise at the question, the interrogation, her defenses coming up quickly. She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her breasts, her heart pounding, putting as much bravado as she could in the face of that acute intensity. 

"I knew that there was someone bleeding outside my door," she stated quietly, keeping her eyes on his. "I knew I had a gun which I could use. I knew you were on your way. I knew I couldn't let anyone die. I had to go outside, Oliver." 

_"No, you didn't have to, Felicity."_

Felicity flinched at his sudden loud voice as he yelled, the wall crumbling as she saw the look on his face, the look of complete and utter fury mingled with frustration. He took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them, his eyes inflamed.

"How did your going outside help, please tell me," he demanded loudly. "You stepped outside, but Raisa wasn't moved till we got here. Your going outside did nothing to help her except make you more vulnerable."

Her blood boiled. "How could you even  _say that?"_  she demanded back, her own voice getting louder by the second. "Have you thought for one second he might have come up to kill her?"

"And have you thought for one second he might have come up to kill  _you?"_  he fired back, closing the distance between them, standing just a feet away.

"Of course I have but I couldn't do nothing!" she yelled back, completely incensed. "Get off your high horse, Oliver! What would you have done in my place?"

Oliver stayed silent for a few beats, just glaring at her, his eyes heavy on hers, his mouth twisting into a scowl as his jaw clenched.

He spoke, in that soft tone again, the volume completely gone. "I would have done exactly what you did, Felicity," he said, his voice deceptively soft. "But I the man who has been fighting since before you knew codes. I am the man who has shed more blood in a week than you have in your entire body. I'm the man who has every right to be on this high horse."

He stepped into her personal space then, leaning forward, his eyes blazing on hers. His fingers came up to trail over her cheek, gently, softly, his mouth a breath away, and he spoke, his words ghosting over her face in that same deceptive tone. "I am the man who spent  _minutes_  in that fucking car like it was a  _lifetime_ , with nothing but the sound of a gunshot ringing in his ears and a lifetime of enough pain to let his imagination run wild, all because his wife refused to listen to reason, солнышко."

Her heart clenched suddenly, her anger draining away as she looked up at him, understanding how long those minutes must have been for him. She would have gone crazy in his place.

Felicity opened her mouth but he put a finger on her lips, shushing her, his gaze so intense it was making her heart hammer in her chest.

"There is a fine line between being brave and being reckless, Felicity. If I were in your place, I would have walked the line without a thought."

His voice lowered even more, his eyes trailing over her face as he gripped her chin, making a shiver go down her spine. 

"But I am not the one carrying our child. You are."

She was. He leaned in closer, his mouth almost brushing hers, making her heart skitter in her chest and goosebumps break out over her arms, her breasts heavier against her crossed arms.

"I love you for walking that line, Felicity," he murmured against lips, his mouth never truly brushing hers but never truly leaving, "but right now, I want to  _break_  bones because you put not just our baby's life on that line, but your own. Both of yours. And that, Felicity, is making me want  _to break fucking things."_

Felicity stood still, her heart in her throat as he looked into her eyes, his lips hovering over hers for long seconds. Slowly, after a few beats, he pulled away, stepping back and releasing her chin. Disappointment crashed over her, along with something else that made her throat tight.

She watched him walk over to the closet without another word, her heart pounding, and breaking. She watched him throw the towel away, unabashed in his nudity, as he tugged on a pair of jeans over his underwear, pulling a plain black t-shirt over his head, his back to her the entire time. He was dressing, which meant he was going down, which meant he wasn't coming to bed. Not now. Pressing her trembling lips together, she watched him turn around. He picked up his phone from the bedside table, not speaking another word to her, and Felicity admitted, it hurt. She knew it hurt him too. 

Swallowing, she closed her eyes. "Oliver?" she whispered softly. 

For a few seconds, she kept her eyes closed, afraid he'd left. She wouldn't blame him if he did. 

"I have to go back downstairs," his quiet voice made her open her eyes to look at him. He stood beside the door, looking at her. She saw his eyes soften slightly at whatever he saw on her face.

"Will you come up?" she asked softly, her hands gripping her arms.

His eyes softened even more. He nodded. "Later. Get some sleep, Felicity."

She nodded at him, and he hesitated for a split second, before pulling the door open, walking out without another backward look, and shut it behind him.

Her knees finally gave out, her body lank after the confrontation, her back aching. Felicity sank down on the bed, staring at the door, feeling moisture threaten her eyes. She couldn't completely blame him. She knew why she had done what she had, but she couldn't deny a single word he had said. She had put them in danger. Again. And it hurt.

She lay down on the bed, curling on her side, all traces of sleep completely gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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	11. Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Gah, it's been long! I've missed this so much! Thank you so much for all the amazing messages and the incredible response to the last chapter, and also for the incredible patience you have shown me and all my stories on hold. It means so much to me, and every single message telling me how you've looked forward to this has just brightened my day. So thank you!
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> Due to exams leaving me no time, I've not been able to update any story recently and hopefully it should be clear soon. I've also not been able to reply to all the incredible comments and messages you all leave me and I am so very sorry for that. Your feedback feeds my soul and I'll get on the replies as soon as I can. But I see every message and trust me, I can't express how important they are. So do go on leaving me your thoughts. 
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> Happy reading!!!

He was mad at her. 

Felicity looked emptily at the monitor, the single bar on the screen progressing at snail's speed, wires connecting Roy's phone to the computer. She blinked once at the progress bar, seeing it stuck at the exact place where it had been in the last ten blinks, and sighed. Closing her eyes, she leaned her elbows against the table, holding her head in her hands, the lack of sleep getting to her, a low ache throbbing just below her spine. She squirmed in her comfortable chair, trying to get the angle just right, adjusting her back to chase the relief she could almost feel as she deliberately relaxed her tense muscles, the hum of the computer and the tick of the clock the only sounds keeping her company.

As she waited for the program to finish running, she let her mind wander over the last days. Last night, Oliver had walked out of their bedroom to interrogate the man she had shot, not returning until morning, and then too just to freshen up. He hadn't avoided her, nor had he been cold. He had been worse. He had been _polite_ , of all things. And it sucked. Felicity couldn't remember the last time Oliver had been _polite_ , almost cordial, to her. Well, she did remember him immediately after their marriage, but even then he'd been warm. He wasn't cold now, not at all. Just not as warm as she was used to with him. And it made the weight in her chest settle even more deeply everyday, because even though she knew she'd not been wrong, she'd not been right.

She could understand his anger. Her husband cherished control over everything except her. His control was his way of making sure they were safe, and even though it got on her nerves sometimes, she understood where it came from. Which was why she knew exactly how hard it must have been for him, to sit in that car, listening to her willingly put herself at risk while he could do nothing, willingly put their child at risk while he just listened helplessly. Knowing Oliver, it must have been _hard._ And then the single gunshot... 

Felicity inhaled deeply. She would have gone insane in his place. Just imagining what it must have been like for him, to hear that silence after the gunshot, letting his imagination run rampant down roads he'd blocked in his mind...

She understood his anger. She even shared it. He couldn't be more mad at her than she was at herself. 

But the lukewarm politeness, the absence of the night - it was killing her. As was her back. 

She stood up, stretching a little, feeling the kinks along her spine work themselves out, groaning a little with relief, and picked up her phone, dialing Dr. Nelson. The older woman picked up on the third ring. 

"Felicity," she heard the warm voice greet her. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi, Dr. Nelson," Felicity greeted out, smiling and walking towards the window overlooking the lawns, seeing more security men far near the gates. Digg and Oliver had tightened the security evidently. 

Shaking her head, she focused on the call. "I'd like to move up our appointment for tomorrow if that's okay with you?"

"Absolutely," she heard the older woman speak. "Let's meet tomorrow at noon."

Felicity nodded. "Okay."

"Is there anything unusual with the pregnancy?" Dr. Nelson asked. 

"Nothing that I've noticed except my back," Felicity spoke even as she rubbed the spot with her hand. "It started last night and just won't go. Is that unusual?"

There was a beat of silence before the other woman spoke. "Not really. You're almost six weeks along from what we know. We'll know more when I examine you tomorrow. I'll schedule your first ultrasound so if you wish to bring your husband along, you can."

Her heart skipped a little beat. "I'll ask him." Taking a deep breath, Felicity thanked her and cut the call, looking at the setting sun over the horizon, streaking the sky in flames all over. 

Six weeks. Ultrasound. 

Their baby was six weeks old. Something fluttered in her heart at the thought, putting a small smile on her lips. This was something she'd never thought she'd have a few years ago, a life she'd never thought she'd live. She had searched the internet for all she could about the weeks of pregnancy, and so far she'd been surprisingly free from all the aches and nausea and what not. Not that she wanted to jinx it. And she'd see their baby tomorrow, right inside her, breathing with her, living with her. 

The sound of the door opening drew her away from her thoughts. She turned to face her office, to see Digg standing just inside the threshold, dressed in another one of his sharp suits with hands folded together, his eyes warm on her. Felicity smiled at him, motioning for him to come in and close the door behind him as she walked to the edge of her work table and leaned against it. 

"So Oliver told you," Felicity began after a moment of silence. 

Digg scoffed. "More like yelled it." Then, he smirked. "Definitely a different way to find out I'll be an uncle."

Felicity chuckled slightly, shrugging, unsure of what to say. 

Digg looked at her, smiling. "You know, I'm surprised you held off this long given how... _active_ you two are." 

Her cheeks warmed even as she smacked his huge bicep. Digg held her shoulder, suddenly growing serious. "I know Oliver's already told you this but you have to be more careful now, Felicity. That stunt you pulled, I get it. I do. But you should have seen him in the car. I don't think I've ever seen him more scared in all the time I've known him."

Felicity blinked at Digg, her heart clenching, her mind painting a clear picture of Oliver, her Oliver, terrified. She didn't like the picture. Not one bit. 

Digg continued, his dark eyes boring into hers, pulling the big brother routine with effect. "Hell, I panicked when I found out. You're one smart girl, Felicity, but now you're a mother."

A mother. 

The word made her heart pound, the weight in that one word on her chest. 

"Just be more careful, alright?" 

Blinking back to the present, Felicity nodded. "I will." 

Digg smiled, squeezing her arm. "Now that that's out of the way, congratulations. You both deserve all the happiness." 

Felicity smiled back, hugging him silently, her throat tight as he pulled away, leaving her in the office after another squeeze. Standing silently in the darkening office, Felicity walked to the lights, turning them on, waiting for her computer to beep. Drawing the curtains back, she looked out at the darkening sky, just as her phone beeped.

Unlocking it, she saw a text from Thea.

 

**Thea : _Dinner at the table in a few minutes?_**

 

She quickly typed her affirmative response and sighed, walking back to her chair, keeping her eyes on the monitor, where the bar was almost across the screen. Thank goodness. A few minutes later, the beep sounded. 

"My baby would have grown a limb by the time you were done," she muttered under her breath to the screen, quickly switching to the work mode. She had taken Roy's phone in the morning, trying to figure out why her calls or texts hadn't gone through. After a physical search of the device, she had concluded that it hadn't been bugged. Not physically at least. Now as she sat typing away on the keyboard, the sound of the clicks resonated with her hammering heart. Whatever she had expected, she had not expected this. This being someone remotely accessing Roy's phone and diverting all calls and texts to an unknown number without him even realizing it, but only for one hour. Tracing the unknown number, Felicity quickly noted down the details of it before leaning back in her chair, staring at the piece if paper she was going to give Oliver, her mind running. 

It was evident that whoever had done this - accessed Roy's phone just for an hour - had done so knowing the attack on Raisa. Which implied premeditation. Which implied that someone had deliberately left her phone and Oliver's alone, assuming Nik's phone had been tampered with as well. Why only leave their phones? What had been the purpose of the entire attack? And as Roy had asked, why attack Raisa on the other side of the house? Whoever had accessed the phones had been good. Not her level of good, but good. And he (or she - Felicity wasn't misogynist about villains) had not erased the details at all, leaving their footprints all over. They had to know she would find them. Unless that was exactly what they wanted. Could it be another trap? 

Felicity sat quietly, mulling things over. She had to talk it out with Oliver, whenever they did talk. Folding the piece of paper with the single address on it, Felicity stood up from her chair, shutting down her programs and putting her workstation to sleep, making her way to the kitchen table for dinner. Closing the door to her office behind her, she stepped into the corridor, to find Roy seated across the lobby reading a magazine. 

She raised her eyebrows at him as he stood up, and he shrugged. 

Felicity shook her head in exasperation, knowing he was taking his bodyguard duties super seriously, and knowing Oliver must have spoken to him as well. Handing him his phone, she headed towards the kitchen. 

"You found something useful?" Roy asked, getting into step beside her. 

"Besides your texts to Thea?" Felicity teased.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Seriously."

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

Roy nodded and they stepped into the kitchen, going straight for the table. Felicity saw Thea placing the food on the table with one of the housekeepers, since Raisa was still resting, and went ahead to help her. Thea smiled and they silently set the food, the ache in her back vamping up again as she leaned forward. Wincing slightly, Felicity sat down on her chair just as Oliver entered the room. 

Their eyes locked. 

He was wearing his shirt like he always did, with open collar and sleeves folded over forearms, standing in the doorway as though he'd walked straight out of a magazine, gorgeous to boot. Felicity drank him in, parched, starved, needy. It had been too long since they'd just breathed without something over their heads. It had been too long since they'd touched. Too long. She saw the same starved look in those flaming blue eyes as they looked her up and down, before they donned that polite mask she'd come to detest. She heard Thea talk as they sat down, but couldn't hear a word over the rush of blood in her ears, his woodsy scent assaulting her senses as he sat down, so close to touch but so far away, the heat from his body, from his sheer presence making her heart pound almost as though this wasn't the man she was going to have a child with. Almost as though he was a stranger she knew from somewhere. 

She peeked from under her lashes, and their eyes connected again. 

It thrilled her - the rush of blood straight to her head, the heavy feeling in her breasts, the tingling in her palms. And all just because he looked at her. But then, he'd never just _looked_ , had he? He'd devoured with his eyes with hunger; he'd savored with his eyes with thirst. And now, that look, mixed with that tempered anger he was harboring, was making her sweat. In the best way possible.

The sudden clearing of a throat made her almost jump out of her chair, an action her back immediately chided her for. Ouch.

Cheeks burning, Felicity stole another glance at her husband, only to find him slightly frowning at her, and looked back down at her plate, tuning out whatever Thea and Oliver were talking about and focusing on the fact that she could barely eat her salad. Dinner was going to be long.

* * *

Felicity lay on her aching back, staring at the stupid mirror showing her stupid reflection like last night. Stupid because she did not need another reminder of the fact that she was all alone in the bedroom, like last night. The huge bed was a reminder enough. Glaring reminder. She would understand the term, watching the mirror glare back at her as she lay rigidly in another of Oliver's t-shirts. She wanted him to come back to bed. She wanted him to lay down on his side with his stupid, handsome face and stroke her back and pull her flush into his warm skin and tell her they were okay. She needed him to. And though she was horny, she just wanted him to sleep beside her like he always did.

Self-pity was so not her thing. But damned if she didn't want to wallow right now.

She could also go and drag his ass back to bed, but her back really hurt like hell, and moving was not something she wanted to do. She just wanted to sleep. Beside him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Distracting herself, she pulled the t-shirt to just under her breasts, exposing her midriff to the room, and slowly started stroking her fingers over her stomach in a soothing motion, watching her hands in the mirror.

"I wonder what you'll say when you see the mirror," she murmured softly into the room, talking, for the first time, to her baby, feeling a smile take over her lips. "Of course your father is going to give you the 'it's for our safety' version," she rolled her eyes, stroking her skin again and again. "He's very protective, your father. But he already loves you so much. And I love you so much. And so does Uncle Digg. And so will your Aunt Thea and Uncle Roy. You'll never want for love, my precious. I can't believe I'm using Game of Thrones here. No violence till you're much, much older, okay?"  

Not that she expected any answer, but talking, out loud made it so much more real. She kept stroking her stomach and whispering words to the empty room, letting them fill it, feeling her eyes getting heavier and heavier, only her throbbing back holding her back from sleep. 

Her hand stilled, resting over her stomach, and she closed her eyes, twisting her hips to curve her spine, for relief. 

She felt his hand over hers even before she could open her eyes, feeling the familiar shape of fingers twine with hers, feeling the familiar size envelop her smaller one, feeling the roughness press into hers. The relief hit her chest with a force she hadn't thought possible, a loud exhale escaping her at feeling him beside her, holding her hand. 

She opened her eyes to the dimly lit room, to find him sitting beside her, only in his underwear, his scarred flesh exposed to her, his beautiful eyes looking at her softly. When had he stripped? 

"Turn around," he spoke gruffly, and Felicity frowned, not understanding his command. 

She stayed put and after a minute, felt his hands grip her waist, gently flipping her onto her stomach, placing pillows under it to cushion her comfortably. Her heart clenched at her thoughtful gesture, and she turned her neck to look at him. He slowly tugged the t-shirt away from her hips, pushing it over her back and she raised herself a little, letting him take it off completely, before lying back down, curious. 

"Close your eyes," Oliver said softly, brushing her hair to one side, looking at her quietly. Blinking once, Felicity nodded and complied, seeing nothing but blackness behind her lids, feeling the cool air more acutely on her exposed skin, feeling her nipples pebble in reaction against the pillows, feeling her heart pound, not knowing what was to come. 

And then she felt it. Just at the base of her spine. 

Oil. 

Hot oil. 

Followed by fingers. 

A moan escaped her unbidden as her hands fisted the pillows beside her, her heart bursting with the love for this man. 

He was mad at her, but he was giving her a hot oil massage because her back hurt. How was he even _real?_  

Felicity felt his skilled, strong fingers rub the oil over the exact spot where the ache was, feeling him rub the muscles and rub the tension away from her spine, making her feel languid as he continued to press and rub and glide the hot oil over the column slowly, but effortlessly. 

"If you ever want to get into another business, I highly recommend becoming a masseur," Felicity mumbled as another moan escaped her, her back arching for his seeking hands. 

"You want me massaging other women?" she heard him ask quietly, his voice slightly amused. 

His finger pressed down at another spot near the base of her spine and she moaned louder than before. "On second thought, I'd rather just keep you as a private one. I think you'd prefer that too." 

"Much," he replied. "Why didn't you tell me your back was hurting?" 

She shrugged slightly. His fingers stopped. 

"солнышко?"

He was cheating, murmuring the nickname like that. He knew what that did to her.  

"Are we okay?" she whispered quietly, keeping her eyes shut. 

There was a beat of silence, loaded silence, and then Felicity felt his lips against her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss into her skin that made her toes curl, and she opened her eyes, to find his face just inches away, his breath on her skin. 

"Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean I stop caring, солнышко," he spoke softly. Her heart melted. He continued, his eyes locked on hers sincerely. "I don't care how angry I am or how angry you are. I want you to tell me even if your finger aches. Understood?"

Felicity nodded, biting her lips. "But you are still angry?"

He sighed, pressing his head into her shoulder. "I am. Not as much as I was last night. Not enough to stay away from you."

Felicity blinked up at him, her mouth trembling, swallowing down the emotions threatening to burst out. "I love you."

He raised his head, a small smile on his lips, his eyes holding that look, her look, in them. He brushed her hair back behind her ear, his finger lingering on her piercing, before leaning forward, pressing his lips to hers gently, before pulling back. "Stop distracting me from my massage."

Felicity grinned, turning her head, every inch of her body feeling loved as he resumed rubbing the small knots in her back into limp compliance, occasionally pressing kisses into her shoulder, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, Felicity felt herself succumb to sleep, the sensation of his fingers on her back the last thing in her memory.

* * *

Even after two years of waking up next to Oliver Queen, as familiar as everything about waking up next to him was, Felicity still marveled every time she saw their twined limbs in the mirror above them, still caught her breath every morning at the erotic picture they made on a rumpled, used bed, still felt her heart pound at the sheer trust in his face as he let all his guards down and slept peacefully beside her. It never stopped surprising her, feeling his breath on her skin and his arms caging her against his body. She hoped it never would.

Felicity blinked up at the mirror, the mirror that had witnessed everything that they were, and saw Oliver burrowed against her neck, his head resting right above her naked breasts, his arm around her waist, his body keeping her warm. The sun was barely up outside the window, and the room was dark with the curtains drawn. Felicity smiled, feeling her back, completely relaxed, not even the ghost of an ache haunting her spine. Carding her fingers through his hair, Felicity felt him sigh contently, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep, rubbing his face against her neck, his scruff rasping deliciously over her sensitive skin.

She continued downward, stroking his back, feeling the scars she knew better than her computers under her hand, her mind, now that it was relaxed, going through what she had found. The unknown number that all the calls and messages from Roy's phone had been diverted to - there was something about it she couldn't seem to shake. She kept brushing his skin distractedly, her mind whirring with possibilities, when his grumbled voice reached her.

"Stop thinking."

A smile came to her unbidden. "Was it loud?"

"Yeah."

Felicity pressed a soft kiss to his head. "I have an appointment at noon. With Dr. Nelson."

Oliver raised his head slightly, a bit more awake, and spoke, his voice still roughened from sleep. "Is everything okay?"

Felicity bit her lip, her excitement bubbling. "I'm almost six weeks in, so it's ultrasound day."

He blinked, his lips curling, before resuming his position on her chest. "I'm coming with you," he stated simply, and Felicity chuckled. "Okay. Don't you have other work?"

"Nothing that won't wait," he grumbled again. "Just let's sleep for a while, okay? I feel like it's been forever since we just slept in."

Felicity sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep anyways, but letting him. She bit her lip, keeping her breathing even, and reached for her phone at the bedside table, quietly connecting to her cloud server, checking up on the unknown number.

She felt Oliver sigh again. "You're not going to sleep, are you?"

 

Felicity looked at him apologetically. Oliver groaned. "Fine, I'll find something better to do with my time."

He licked a small stripe over her collarbone and Felicity moaned softly. She felt his grin against her skin as he pressed tiny kisses to her neck, his scruff tickling her skin, her eyes willing to close and succumb to the pleasure just waiting for them, her fingers flying over her phone to just get one search over with before she turned to a pile of mindless goo.

"солнышко?"

"Hmm?"

"Put the fucking phone down." 

Grinning, Felicity turned her neck to give him more access, while typing the last command on her phone, pressing the proceed button, just as Oliver plucked it away from her hand, putting it beside her. Before she could protest, his lips came down on hers, hard, and every protest inside her died as she clung to him, kissing him with abandon, with everything she had, with all the pent up frustration and anger of the last day, biting his lips even as her nails dug into his back, pulling him into her body, the friction of their mouths, snapping and dueling and dancing together sloppily one second and smoothly the next heating her skin, her heart beating a staccato in her chest. 

They pulled away for air, and Felicity panted, her breasts heaving against his chest, his mouth nipping at her jaw, his hands caging her in, his guttural whisper inflaming her even more. 

"Fuck, you drive me _crazy._ "

Felicity pulled him back up, her heart racing, pulse skittering, her entire body heated, and locked gazes with him, seeing _that_ look, that _look_ he always looked at her with, with that single minded focus, directed right at her. 

He leaned in again, closing the distance between their mouths, and her heart thundered, ready to argue with him on their bed, knowing it led to the best of times. And her phone beeped. Oliver paused, just a breath away from her lips, before his mouth twitched in exasperation. 

"You won't rest till you see it, will you?"

Felicity bit her lip, her entire body so, _so_ very ready, slowly picking her phone up. "Just one second and then I'm all yours." 

Oliver went back to her neck, pressing kisses all over. "You're already mine."

Rolling her eyes, she opened the results for her program, regarding the unknown number, and froze. 

"Felicity?"

She kept looking at the screen, her breath stuck in her throat, her mind running a mile a minute.

The unknown number. 

"Felicity!" 

She looked at Oliver, to see his worried, clear eyes, looking back at her. 

"What is it?"

Felicity looked back at the phone, just once more, before turning to him, mumbling what she knew she would have to explain, but needing to say it out loud, to make some sense of it. 

"I knew there was something off about the number. The unknown number where the calls were diverted, we have dealt with it before. The same number was used by that woman to call me a few weeks ago before she died. Which means her death and the attack on the mansion are connected. Which means the mystery man with way too much knowledge of our private lives is connected to all this."

She paused at the frown on his face, her heart pounding and stomach clenching as realization hit her hard.

"Which means it's all connected. Everything. Someone has been planning this, whatever this is, for a _long_ time. And anything planned for so long? Whatever it is, it's _big._ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? Do let me know!
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. 
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
> TUMBLR : [supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com](http://supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com/)  
> TWITTER : [@dorky06](http://twitter.com/Dorky06/)


	12. Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Thank you so much for the fabulous response to this story so far! It's so encouraging and so amazing. I'm so very grateful to all of you.
> 
> Here is the next chapter. It's a breather but stuff happens. Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Don't forget to let me know your thoughts. I love to hear from you and your feedback makes my day!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Last year, one night after their dinner date, walking down the street towards their beach in the moonlight, his arms around her shoulders and hers around his waist, something had happened. It had been small, something which honestly didn't even measure a lot in the crazy that was their lives, but for some reason, it had stuck with her. 

It had been an amazing date, like all dates with her husband always were, and while they'd been walking, and she'd been talking, Felicity had suddenly felt Oliver stiffen beside her, his hand tightening on her shoulder. She had stopped immediately, looking around to see what he'd been looking at, and seen nothing. The street had been completely empty, and Oliver had stood there for a moment, his eyes focused on a spot, before shaking himself off and continuing to walk. 

When she'd asked him about it, he'd simply shaken his head. "I just thought I saw something."

The topic had changed after that. But for some reason, the incident had stayed with her. 

Sitting beside him in the car as he drove them to the hospital for her appointment with Dr. Nelson, watching his handsome profile as he kept his eyes straight on the road, even in the dwindling traffic, Felicity didn't know why she was thinking of that incident precisely, right at the moment, but something felt off to her. 

Ever since she had told him of the numbers connection, Oliver had switched modes in his head. He'd gotten up off the bed, all thoughts of seduction put aside, and paced while he'd dialed Digg's number. Felicity had watched him quietly, retrieving the address she'd gotten off her search, and the moment he had been done with the phone call, she'd given it to him. He had nodded brusquely before heading for a shower. Felicity had dressed and gone down to the kitchen, famished. 

By the time he'd come down, there had been no traces of the playful Oliver from the morning. He'd been all hard lines and tense muscles, ready to head out. And she'd watched him quietly, not understanding his brusqueness. Sure, the news had not boded well for them, but his reaction had seemed a little extreme. And he'd left with just a nod in her direction, no mention of her later appointment or no little everyday kiss. 

Felicity had sighed and let him leave, eating and getting ready, searching the internet for any and all information she could about her first ultrasound, preparing herself for it. She'd thought she'd be going alone after all, since her husband had disappeared. Which was exactly why she'd been surprised to walk out of the house to find him leaning against the car, his muscular arms folded across his chest, white shirt stretched taut across his torso, strong thighs flexing under the dark fabric of his trousers, sunglasses covering his eyes, the sunlight making him look roguish, his scruff adding another edge to his appearance. It had made her heart race. Even though she'd seen him just like this numerous times over the years, her heart had still skittered at the sight of him waiting for her, relief and happiness washing over her that he'd not forgotten, her stomach in knots just like it had been years ago on their first date. 

She had smiled wide at him, walking towards where he'd opened the door, in her floral dress and flats, and gotten in. He'd walked around the car, getting in the driver's seat smoothly and pulled out. And it had been after a few minutes of watching his profile that she'd remembered the incident. 

She swallowed, fiddling with the seat belt across her chest, keeping her eyes on him. 

"Did you find something?" she asked the first thing that popped in her head.

Because he was wearing the sunglasses, she couldn't tell whether his eyes flickered to her or not, but he shook his head. "I'd tell you if I did."

Felicity frowned slightly at his tone, her hands stilling, watching him more keenly. "Oliver?"

He sighed, his lips pulled down at the corners. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little on the edge."

Felicity's heart ached as understanding dawning upon her. He was on the edge with worry. This soon after the attack on Raisa and her daring stunt, the news obviously had not settled as well as it could have with him. She slowly extended her left hand, her rings shining in the sunlight streaming through the windshield, and squeezed his thigh softly. 

"Talk to me, baby," she urged him softly, keeping her eyes on him, seeing as he inhaled deeply. 

He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it as the tall, white hospital building came into view.  Felicity cursed the timing, needing to get him to talk, needing him to get his mind off the dangerous roads it could travel, needing him to share that burden with her. He drove silently to the semi-crowded parking lot, parking smoothly in the available space, and turned the ignition off. 

They both sat silently, not moving, not getting down, just breathing.

Felicity waited, counting heartbeats, watching him, waiting for him to say something. He took in a deep breath, his finger tracing her rings where her hand rested on his leg before he turned his neck to face her, and finally, spoke quietly.

"I am scared, Felicity." 

Her heart stuttered, stomach knotting at the fear in his voice. She stayed silent, rubbing his thigh soothingly, letting him get it all out.

He exhaled loudly. "The fact that these events have been connected scares me. The fact that it has been going on for so long scares me."

He placed his hand on hers. "I've been trying my damnest to find something, _anything_ ," he uttered, frustration evident in his voice. "And all I'm getting is dead ends and dead people. I can't fight what I can't see, Felicity. And I can't keep you safe if I can't fight. And it is scaring the living daylights out of me. If anything happened to you, or to our baby, солнышко, I just..."

Felicity was removing her seat belt and leaning across the console before he was done, the quick way he kept talking, the fear in his voice undoing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her body, and felt the shiver that wracked his huge frame, his hands coming up around her back to hold her against him, his face burying itself into her neck, his breaths rapid on her skin. Felicity turned her face into his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his muscle, and hugged him tighter. 

"We'll figure it out," she murmured softly into his ear, her fingers brushing his hair.

"Yeah," he sighed against her, pulling back slightly. 

Felicity leaned forward, pecking his lips once, trying to lighten his mood. "Let's go see our baby."

It worked. A small smile tilted his lips, his dimple peeking out from under the scruff, and he nodded, opening his door. Felicity opened hers, getting down from the car, and found herself tucked into his side as they walked into the hospital together. The pristine interior and the hospital smell only added to the sudden bout of nerves that attacked her. What if there was something wrong with the baby? What if the ultrasound couldn't detect a heartbeat? What if the embryo wasn't where it should be? What if...

The possibilities assaulted her all at once as they got inside the elevator, and she tightened her fingers around Oliver's where they were interlaced, her hand trembling slightly as the elevator doors opened on Dr. Nelson's floor. Till now, she had been assuming her pregnancy was fine. What if her lack of any discomfort had been because of something else entirely? What if they found out? What...

"солнышко."

Oliver's voice jarred her out of her haze, making her blink up at him. He'd removed his shades, looking back at her with none of the worry he'd admitted to in the car. His eyes were clear of any doubts, his fingers squeezing hers softly. She forgot sometimes how well he knew her. 

"Let's go see our baby," he spoke softly, using her own words, and her lips twitched at that. Steeling her spine, she nodded and walked with him to the desk. The older brunette woman behind it glanced at them before openly giving Oliver a good once-over. Felicity rolled her eyes, something as normal as a woman checking out her hot husband calming her nerves, telling her all was right in the world. 

"Dr. Nelson is expecting me," she smiled at the woman. "Mrs. Smoak-Queen."

The woman nodded, removing her gaze from Oliver, who looked down at her with an exasperated shake of his head. Felicity had accepted, long ago, that her husband was one hot specimen of masculinity and that entailed women checking him out. While it had initially made her a little insecure, it only amused her now. 

"Go right in, Mrs. Smoak-Queen."

Felicity smiled her thanks and walked to Dr. Nelson's office, with Oliver right beside her, his hand on the small of her back, and took in a deep breath, her heart pounding, before opening the door. 

The older woman sat behind her desk in a crisp beige suit, going through some papers, her dark hair in a neat knot at the nape of her neck, her beautiful mocha skin glowing. Felicity wished her skin would glow like that when she hit her forties. Walking in, she saw Dr. Nelson stand up, a warm smile on her face as her eyes shifted to Oliver. 

"Dr. Nelson," Felicity introduced, "meet my husband, Oliver Queen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Queen," the older woman said, extending her hand. Oliver shook it with a smile. "The pleasure is all mine."

Once the niceties were exchanged, Dr. Nelson got straight to business, indicating for both of them to take a seat. 

"So tell me about your back ache first."

The questions began. Felicity inhaled deeply, and began answering. 

* * *

 

For half an hour, Felicity answered questions about her pregnancy and her body and their sex lives, Oliver speaking in only when necessary and mostly just observing silently, and she squirmed on the chair while Dr. Nelson took notes, nodding here and there. And then, finally, she asked her to get up and head over to the area with the ultrasound equipment that Felicity recognized from the internet searches. A young female technician came in and helped Felicity dress in the gown and lean back in the chair, covering her lap with a sheet and taking her blood pressure. Once done, Dr. Nelson and Oliver entered the area while the technician left, Dr. Nelson having decided to do the ultrasound herself as Felicity had requested. 

Nerves stretched taut, Felicity felt her heart pound and the older woman donned the lab coat and sat on a stool beside her. Felicity swallowed, feeling a babble trapped in her throat, her nervousness pushing her to the edge. 

"Will it be a sonogram?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the multitude of thoughts flying through her head. 

Dr. Nelson smiled at her, pushing the gown to just under her breasts, exposing her stomach. "We'll try the regular one first and look for the heartbeat. In case it doesn't work, then we'll go for a sonogram." 

Felicity looked at Oliver as he stood beside her. He took a hold of her hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing softly, his blue, blue eyes on her. She gave him a tremulous smile which he returned, his own slight nervousness evident in his eyes. 

"Now, I want you to be prepared," Dr. Nelson said, applying the cold gel to Felicity's lower abdomen, making her wince at the temperature slightly. "It might be possible that we don't find anything today. I don't want you disheartened at all, okay?" 

Felicity swallowed, the possibility of not finding anything making her heart heavy, and her grip on Oliver's fingers tightened. He gripped hers back in support and she nodded. 

The doctor slowly brought up a mouse like device on her abdomen, right where the gel was applied, and turned her head towards the screen. Felicity kept her gaze on it as well, seeing the black and white monitor, squinting to see something, anything. All she saw was blurred white lines that made no sense whatsoever to her.

The older woman pressed on her stomach harder, below her navel, changing the angles of the device, and suddenly, she stopped. 

Heart pounding erratically, she felt Oliver's hand gripping hers, and she gripped back, watching as Dr. Nelson smiled and pointed at the screen. 

"That right there," she said, her finger at a small white spot in the middle of the screen, "is your baby."  


Felicity felt her breath catch in her throat, her pulse stuttering as she watched, transfixed, her chest tight, blood rushing to her ears. 

"It's like a jelly bean," she muttered, entranced.

"It is," Dr. Nelson nodded. "That's pretty normal this far in the pregnancy. And you see this?" she asked, pointing to a flickering section. "That's the heartbeat. It's very rapid at this point, which again is normal. I'll just measure it, wait."

Felicity felt her jaw tremble. For the first time, it all became real, more real than it had ever been. She could see the proof of the life inside her, life with rapid little heartbeats, life that she had created with Oliver. Her lips trembled even more, her eyes moistening. 

She turned her head to look at Oliver, and her heart melted. He stood frozen, completely frozen, his lips slightly parted, his expressive blue eyes transfixed on the screen, blinking at their blip of a baby. The stunned look on his face made her realize he was having the same overwhelming reaction to actually seeing the proof of their baby. The slight moisture in his eyes made her own throat tighten. She saw her husband fall in love with each blip on the screen and each blink of his eyes. 

He looked away from the screen after long minutes, his eyes clashing with hers, and the ferocity of the emotion she saw there knocked the breath out of her lungs. He leaned down, uncaring of the audience, and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes, breathing her in and her own fluttered close, his breath warming her face, her pulse racing, their hands still twined together, gripping the other's for life. She felt his breath stutter, his nose brushing hers, the gesture saying everything he couldn't put to words, everything he wanted to say, _everything._  

They stayed like that for long moments, eventually calming their hearts around, and wrapping their heads around the last few minutes. Slowly, gradually, they pulled away, and Felicity looked at the smile on his face, the absolute happiness on his face, and her heart skipped, her lips lifting automatically. He slowly kissed her fingers, his eyes on hers, making her toes curl slightly just as a throat cleared. 

Flushing, Felicity looked at Dr. Nelson, almost having forgotten the woman had been there, and saw the older woman smile knowingly. 

"Change and come outside," she said, walking back to her office. 

Felicity nodded, getting up as the technician came back in again and Oliver followed the doctor, helping her clean up the gel and dress. Done quickly, she walked back out on shaky legs, her chest bursting with something she couldn't name, and found Oliver sitting across the doctor, waiting for her. She sat down, unable to keep the smile off of her face, and tangled her fingers with his again as Dr. Nelson began telling her about her pregnancy and what she could expect in the coming weeks. 

Felicity listened, floating in a bubble, with nothing but two hearts beating inside her and Oliver's pulse beating against hers.

 

* * *

 

By the time they got out of the office, Felicity's body's was buzzing, her nerves on fire, happiness and something else mingling in her bloodstream with each breath. Oliver stayed silent beside her, his fingers flexing occasionally around hers, his muscles taut. The ultrasound sat folded neatly in her purse, her mind still unable to believe it. 

The elevator doors opened and they stepped in, only two more people inside. Unable to keep the grin off her face, Felicity bit her lips, glancing at her husband and their gazes collided, his own lips tilted in a soft smile. Her stomach somersaulted, her fingers rubbing against his as the two people got off on the next floor, leaving them alone in the elevator. The moment the doors slid closed, he pulled her in his arms just as she pulled his head down, their mouths colliding with the brute force of their passion, his hands spanning her entire waist and keeping her close. Their lips moved together with practiced ease and fervor, nipping, sucking, tasting, her hands tangling in his hair as she stood on her toes. Just as she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, the elevator doors slid open and they parted, their eyes locked, smiles on their lips. 

He pulled her out by her hand, tucking her into his side, pressing a soft kiss to her head. Felicity blinked up at him, the butterflies in her stomach dancing in tandem, her heart beating swiftly, everything but their happiness forgotten. 

They walked out of the hospital and towards the parking lot, and Felicity broke the happy silence. 

"We need to tell Thea and Roy and my mom, you know."

Oliver smiled, nodding. "Let's tell them tonight. But no one else until you start to show." 

Show. Just in a few more weeks her skin would stretch and her tummy would grow, with their baby inside it. Just the thought sent a flutter through her heart. 

"I can't believe our baby is already the size of a jelly bean," she began, her voice suffused with excitement. "I mean just think about it. We know the biology of it, how it was just a cell. But _think_ about it. Something from you fusing with something from me and taking a life of its own. Can you even imag..."

His lips pressed into hers, his smile evident against her mouth and he pulled back, looking down at her with those beautiful, intense eyes. 

They were almost to the car when suddenly, Oliver's phone rang. He pulled it out of the pocket and frowned at the screen before suddenly turning to stone. Felicity stilled beside him, the air of joy suddenly dissipating at the shadow on his face, as she waited for him to move. Gesturing for her to get in the car, he clenched his jaw, walking around to his side. Felicity's brows furrowed at the sudden tension in his body, but she complied, buckling herself in. Oliver looked down as his phone rang again. 

"It's the same number."

His words made her freeze, her heart stopping for a second before pounding with a vengeance. She swallowed. "Pick it up." 

Oliver glanced at her before clenching his jaw and putting the phone to his ear. He didn't speak. 

Felicity watched him silently, observing the reactions on his face, in his body. A muscle in his jaw ticked, his forearm straining where he gripped the steering wheel and fingers tight around the phone, his entire body tense muscles on the verge of motion. She put her hand on his thigh, unease skittering down her spine at his response. He looked at her, listening to whatever was going on, his blue eyes fiery with a rage that would have scared the shit out of her had it been directed at her. 

After long, long moments, Oliver cracked his neck, his eyes cooling, his body stilling and Felicity's heart thundered. Uh-oh. 

And finally he spoke, his words chilling her to the bone, his tone full of menace and murder, his voice low, quiet, threatening. 

He spoke and Felicity's fingers tightened around his thigh, her eyes widening at his entire demeanor. 

He spoke, cold, ruthless, lethal, and Felicity felt her heart hammer. 

"You just made the biggest mistake of your life. Your life which I am going to end tonight while you _beg_ me for mercy."

He paused, his eyes locked on hers, the fire from before kindled in an icy flame. 

"Your breaths are numbered. Tonight, you _die._ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations : 
> 
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? Do let me know!
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. 
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
> TUMBLR : [supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com](http://supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com/)  
> TWITTER : [@dorky06](http://twitter.com/Dorky06/)


	13. Crackle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> Thank you so much for the amazing response and amazing patience to this story so far. I'm so thrilled you are all enjoying this journey. Thank you! I still have to respond to comments on the last chapter but I'll get to it as soon as I can. Do keep sending me those and letting me know your thoughts. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Don't forget to drop me a line with your thoughts. I love to hear from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Before she had met Oliver, Felicity had read about the beauty of love, the tragedy of love, the pain of love, never really expecting any of them to be anything except fiction. That powerful, all-consuming love, she had believed, could not survive the world, neither could the world survive it. But feeling the trepidation and thunder mixing in her heart, Felicity knew it did. Love was, in her reality, only the first step of a very long journey she had started with her husband- a journey where she had discovered that she would kill and die and live, all for him. 

Feeling that love flutter in her heart, Felicity watched the man who had become everything to her, silently.   

The grass almost seemed to catch fire from the setting sun, the sky cloaking itself in darkness, as she stood beside the window in the Oliver's study, watching the scene outside. 

Her husband, along with Digg, stood right in the middle of the fiery lawns, with a group of men, ordering them about. Felicity sighed, watching him, observing him. The man who had held her hand with tears in his eyes was gone, replaced with this dangerous stranger who she'd seen over the years, the dangerous stranger who made her heart thrill. Though the ride back home had been silent, and though Felicity had expected Oliver to shut down again once they reached home, she hadn't been prepared for him to start barking orders without missing a beat, just glancing pointedly at her to send her inside. 

Felicity had entered the house, only to encounter a very curious Thea, who had been coming out of Raisa's room. Felicity had shrugged when she'd asked her about her brother's behavior, and headed to his study to wait for him. 

She had been waiting for hours. Dusk had settled in the sky and he was still outside, pacing, running his hand through his hair, every line of his body agitated. Felicity could have gone out any time and spoken to him. But she knew better than to interrupt him when he got in a mood like this. Especially with an audience. So, she waited, rubbing her still flat stomach. 

"You know your father can be really intense sometimes," she spoke, more to break the silence than anything else, her fingers rubbing circles over the life she had just seen hours ago. "Especially when it comes to keeping us safe. If you are a boy, you'll be the safest son in the entire Bratva. And if you are a girl, he will go absolutely _nuts_."

A smile lifted her lips, just imagining Oliver being all overprotective with his daughter. "Don't ever let him walk all over you, okay? He may huff and puff like a giant bear with a sore paw but he's a teddy bear on the inside, and he will love the fact that you won't take his shit. Make me proud, okay?"

"Who are you talking to?"

Felicity looked back to see Thea frowning at her. Felicity smiled, shrugging, turning back to keep her eyes on her husband. 

She felt the younger woman come to stand beside her, her own eyes taking in the flurry of activity. 

"I've never seen Ollie go this level of crazy," Thea murmured, her voice laced with concern. "I mean sure, he has his moments, but this seems more than just protecting you or me or the family."

Felicity looked sideways at Thea, the words _'I am pregnant'_ on the tip of her tongue, her hand still on her belly, but she abstained. Oliver should have the joy of telling his sister. 

"He's just worried," Felicity said instead, looking outside to where he spoke to someone on the phone, his shirt sleeves folded over his forearms, one hand shoved inside his pocket. He was more than worried. He was scared. And angry. Not a good combination for anyone standing in his way. 

"You know," Thea began, leaning against the window, "I almost feel like there are two of him these days. There's the guy I'm seeing right now. And the guy I see when he's with you. I honestly don't know how you take it sometimes. It can't be easy."

Felicity smiled slightly. "It wouldn't have been what it is had it been easy, Thea. It's just the way we've always been."

"God, you two nauseate me sometimes with your sappiness," Thea scrunched her nose in disgust. "Not to mention the awkward situations I always find you in. Bleaching the eyes is _not_ as easy as it sounds."  

Felicity giggled, but before she could reply, a dark, sleek sedan pulled up the driveway, a car she'd known her whole life. Anatoly. What was he doing there?

Frowning, she straightened, her eyes glued to the stopping vehicle. She watched her uncle get out, along with one of his men, and head towards Oliver. She saw Oliver turn, his back stiffening as he strode to Anatoly, and came to a stop, speaking something. Anatoly pulled down his shades and glared at Oliver, and her husband stood his ground, his hand fisted beside him. 

What the hell was going on? 

"Excuse me, Thea," Felicity mumbled, before stepping away from the window and heading towards the door to the study. She stepped into the corridor outside, watching as men walked around the house, and headed to the lawns, her mind whirring with questions. Why had Oliver called Anatoly to the mansion? And if he hadn't called, why had her uncle come? Had something happened? Something she obviously didn't know about. And why the tension between the men? They were usually amicable, even friendly, if only for her sake. Even though being in the Bratva had its moments of tension for both the men, Oliver had never stopped her from visiting with Anatoly and Anatoly had never bad mouthed Oliver in front of her. She had appreciated that. What she didn't appreciate was being kept in the dark. 

The doors opening to the lawns were manned by two huge men dressed in black gear, who immediately stepped in front of her when she was about to cross. 

"We can't let you through, Mrs. Queen," one of the guards said, in a heavy voice, his huge body stone walling her. 

Felicity blinked at him in surprise, then confusion, before anger rushed through her. She steeled her spine, straightening to her full height, which wasn't much before the giant, but still, and spoke in a low, menacing voice. 

_"Excuse me?"_

The man stoically stared back, her menace having no effect on him whatsoever. "You aren't allowed through, Mrs. Queen."

Not _allowed?_   Who the fuck had died and made him king?

Fury washed over her, and she took a step forward, unleashing her loud voice on the man, uncaring of who heard. "Last time I checked, this was _my_ house, and I can very damn well go anywhere I please, especially if it is to see my husband. So, you either get out of my way or I'm going to have your face plastered on every wanted list in the world before you can say 'sorry'. Got it?"

The man hesitated, before stepping back. "Mr. Queen ordered us not to let you through."

Well, Mr. Queen could shove that order right up his ass. "I appreciate you following his order, but your good intentions were misplaced."

Without waiting for his response, Felicity side-stepped him, and marched out into the well-lit lawn, right where she could see her husband and her uncle still talking, anger humming in her veins at Oliver's high-handed orders. How dare he?

Oliver's gaze drifted to her, his jaw clenching as he saw her angry stride, his arms crossing over his broad chest. Felicity reached the men, glaring at Oliver.

"Will you care to explain to me what is going on?" she asked, folding her own arms across her chest, pinning him with a look as Anatoly turned to greet her. She glared at him as well, silencing him. 

"It's just Bratva business, Felicity," Anatoly said with a forced smile and she raised her eyebrows.

"Anatoly, would you mind giving me a second with my husband?" she spoke carefully, keeping her eyes on Oliver. She heard her uncle sigh and move towards Digg. 

"Why am I under house arrest without my knowledge?" she demanded in a low voice, her eyes locked on his hard, blue ones.

Oliver stayed silent for a few moments, before speaking in the same low voice. "It's just for tonight. For your safety."

Felicity pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oliver, I think I've been pretty patient with whatever the hell is going on but I am at the end of my rope here and you need to tell me. It's enough."

"I can't tell you what I don't know," he replied, his entire stance confrontational.

Felicity looked at him in disbelief. "Are you serious? You've been keeping something from me since my birthday. I let that go because you asked me to trust you, and I do. But this? This is something else. Who was on the phone today? What's happening tonight? You can't expect honesty from me and not give me the same. I'm going crazy here, Oliver."

Her chest was heaving by the time she was done, her hand holding his arm and clutching at him, to shake some sense into him. He sighed, his eyes softening, his hand coming to cup her jaw.

"I have to go tonight with Digg," he murmured softly, piercing her with his intense eyes. "Just for tonight, promise me you'll stay inside and let everyone do their jobs. Just for tonight."

Felicity shook her head, opening her mouth to speak but he pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her. 

"And I promise I'll tell you everything once I am back."

Felicity felt herself calm down at that, seeing the complete conviction in his eyes, and nodded. One night. She could work with that. 

Oliver looked behind her to the doors, and asked. "How did you get them to let you come out?"

"I have my means," she shrugged and watched his lips twitch. "That you do." 

They stood there in silence, her grip on his arm loosening, his hands on her jaw firm, eyes locked, the sounds around them blurring away as he rubbed his thumb over her lips. His eyes roved over her face, taking in everything, before locking back on hers, and her fingers flexed on his muscles, her heart pounding. 

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers, like he loved doing, rubbing their noses together softly, and her heart clenched. 

"солнышко," he murmured, right over her lips. 

The sound of a throat clearing had him straightening. Felicity looked behind them to see Digg nod at Oliver once, saw the hard mask falling over his face again. Something big was going down tonight, and whatever it was had her stomach in knots. 

"Be careful," she whispered quietly to him.

Oliver turned his face to lock eyes with her once more, his hand engulfing the side of her neck as he tilted her head back, pressing his lips to hers once. "Be safe."

With another soft kiss, he turned away, nodding to Digg and Anatoly to follow him, leaving Felicity standing, surrounded by armed men all ready to kill and die for her protection, and a feeling she did not like. Not one bit. 

* * *

 

The house was quiet.

Way too quiet.

Felicity sat in her office, working on a new security software she was developing, but her mind was elsewhere. It was almost midnight. And there was no word from anyone. Oliver's phone was unreachable, as was Digg's. Felicity was not really worried, since she knew Oliver did that when he went on an especially dangerous mission, but her gut was churning, had been churning, since the moment she had seen him turn away. She'd chalked it up to the simple fact that she didn't know what was going on. That didn't mean her heart had stopped pounding. 

The codes blurred on the screen before her, as she sipped the orange juice Raisa's temporary replacement had left her. The sweet taste felt good on her tongue, as she leaned back in her chair, her back stiffening from sitting before the computer for so long, her eyes drifting to the huge clock on the wall beside the windows. Hardly a minute had passed since she'd last checked it. She glanced at the windows, which were, for a change, shut tight, the drapes drawn over them. Nik, Digg's most trusted man, had come in and secured them, telling her it was just for the night, while two guards were stationed outside the door. Roy was somewhere in the house, checking on security with Nik since Digg had gone with Oliver. Even Thea had not been allowed out for the night, something she had not really liked but complied with, seeing Oliver's no-nonsense stare directed at her.

Felicity didn't know what the whole buzz was about, but from what she had seen, the mansion was a fortress. Add a moat and crocodiles and the picture would be complete.

But for all the security and all the people in the place, it was way too quiet. So quiet she could hear the clock ticking and her computers whirring. 

A shiver of unease crawled down her spine. 

Something was off. 

Turning back to the computers, Felicity minimized her codes and brought up the security feed from the entire house, checking the multiple windows for any signs for something strange, her heart pounding as her eyes focused on the different locations. The gates were secure. The lawns were empty. The corridors were even more so. Guards stood alert at every station. 

A noise in the corridor had her head shooting up. She stayed glued to the chair, barely breathing, waiting for the noise. 

Nothing. 

Turning her eyes back to the screen, to right outside her office, and frowned at the way the two guards stood. There was something off about it. 

Quickly pulling her phone out with one hand and switching the lights off in the office with the other, Felicity opened the bottom drawer of her desk, pulling out the small Beretta Digg had given her. 

She dialed Roy's number, relieved when he picked up on the first ring. 

"Roy?" she whispered, not wanting anyone to her her speak. 

"What's going on?" she heard Roy ask. 

"I don't know. Where are you?" she whispered, moving towards the door, intent on locking herself in. 

"Near the kitchen. Why?"

"Don't act like anything's wrong. But something is going on. I need you to check on Raisa and Thea and tell me if they are okay."

There was silence, then he spoke. "Lock yourself in. I'm checking on Thea."

Felicity reached the door, her heart hammering, hands shaking as adrenaline coursed through her system, and slowly, she locked the door, the click loud in the silence, making her freeze for a second. 

"Where are you, Oliver?" she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath, and walked back to the computers, pulling up the screen for the medical room. 

"Thea's not here," she heard Roy curse. "I'll check the med. Maybe she's with Raisa."

Felicity looked at the screen, seeing nobody in the room except the older woman, sleeping on the bed. Just as she opened her mouth to tell Roy that, he spoke.

"She's here. They are okay."

Felicity froze, her eyes flying over the screen. She couldn't see Roy in the room. She couldn't see Thea. Just Raisa, sleeping. 

"Roy, let me speak to her," Felicity whispered, her voice shaking. 

"Felicity, what's going on?" she heard Thea ask, and her breath hitched as realization crashed into her. Someone had tampered with the camera feed. Someone good. Which meant everything she and the security guys were seeing was an illusion. 

She had to think. And think _fast._

"Thea, are you and Raisa okay?" 

"Yes, we are fine. What's..."

"Put Roy back on," she ordered, her stomach falling as sweat broke over her forehead. 

"Felicity?" Roy asked, worry lacing his voice. 

"Roy, I need you to lock the med doors and stay inside. Keep Thea and Raisa safe. Call Nik and tell him someone has messed with our cameras, which means someone is trying to infiltrate the house.," Felicity murmured, her hand shaking as she started typing furiously to get the system back online. 

"I can come get you," Roy said in a low voice. 

"I'm at the other end of the house," Felicity snapped, the pressure getting to her. "Don't be silly. Keep Thea and Raisa safe. Be careful. I'll try to get the system cleared up."

"But.."

"No buts, Roy," Felicity ground out. "I'm armed and locked inside. I'll be fine. And the cavalry will be here soon."

She hoped so. 

Roy agreed reluctantly, and she put the phone down, sitting alone in the dark, locked room, typing away at the keyboard. 

"We'll be fine," she muttered to the baby, realizing that talking to the baby actually kept her from flying off the deep end. "You father will be here very soon. And Uncle Digg with his huge arms. And I'll keep you safe till then. Don't worry."

Within minutes, she cleared the screen, and brought up the live feed from the cameras, and a gasp left her. 

Two men, dressed in black, with balaclavas covering their faces, were right outside her bedroom, trying to pick the lock. It was sheer luck that she was in the office right now, and not the bedroom. And it wouldn't be long before they discovered that.

Felicity dialed Nik's number, her eyes never moving from the two figures on the screen.

"Mrs. Queen?" Nik's gruff voice asked.

"Nik, someone's trying to break into my bedroom," she whispered, her heart beating furiously in her chest.

The older man cursed before barking out. "I am on the grounds. It'll take me a few seconds to get there. Stay inside. I'm sending men."

He cut the call before she could tell him she wasn't inside the concerned room. Staring at the door, Felicity realized that there could be more people on their way. And they could easily pick the locks in the house. She needed to get to safety without being detected.

The cave house. Oliver had told her it was a safe house, to escape there if a situation like this arose. But she couldn't drive away without anyone not knowing she was escaping. Scenarios, the bloody kind, began to drift through her mind. 

No. She couldn't risk the baby like that. She'd have to stay undetected right in the office and barricade herself in. 

Standing up, Felicity took one step forward when suddenly her head began to spin. 

Surprised, since she'd been fine one second, she gripped the edge of the table, letting the wave of dizzy pass. She took another step when another bout hit, hard.

She'd just seen the doctor today, and she'd been told that the baby was fine and healthy. She was fine and healthy. Which meant this dizziness was not natural. Had someone drugged her?

Panic hit her hard as the though took root. When had she been drugged? What drug was it? How would it effect the baby? Her? Could it be poison? No. No. No.

She closed her eyes, trying to gain some clarity and shake off the muddiness, her hand holding on the table and the other picking up her phone, hitting speed dial. Even though she knew he was unreachable, she wanted to leave a message.

A pain sliced through her head, the phone gripped in her hands.

"Oliver," she whispered, her mind racing, a headache throbbing right under her temples. "Someone tampered with the cameras, and got in the house. They're outside the bedroom but I'm in the office."

Her tongue started getting heavier, as did her eyes, her throat drying. Everything was spinning. Focus. She had to focus on Oliver. The baby. For them. 

"I think," she rasped out, calling upon all her strength to stay alert, knowing she was losing the battle. "I've been drugged," she managed to whisper.

She managed to drag her feet just once more, before her knees crumpled under her, and she fell on her side, the phone pressed to her ear, panic and anger mingling inside her, clouding under the heaviness of the drug. 

She closed her eyes, not knowing if this was poison, if this was just a sedative, if she would wake up the same. 

Curling herself into a protective ball, her hand covering her stomach, she thought of Oliver, of his happy face when he saw the ultrasound, of the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled, of the baby he'd created with her. 

She thought of them, and with her last reserve, murmured a soft _"I love you"_ , for them both, before succumbing to the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :   
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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	14. Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> That response to the previous chapter was so absolutely staggering! Seriously, I had no idea that cliffhanger would garner that reaction. Thank you so much for constantly showering me with such amazing feedback! Thank you! 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. Enjoy!
> 
> Do let me know your thoughts. I love to hear from you. 
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> Happy reading!!!

 

She wasn't dead.

That was the first thought in her mind as she stirred, her head heavy, the throb inside her skull acute. It reminded her of the only other time she'd been knocked out back in the day, in a failed abduction attempt. Was this another attempt at the same? And how failed was it?

She tried to move, suddenly realizing she couldn't. Not because her body was heavy and aching - that it was, very much - but because something was holding her down. Panic suddenly started to well in her chest before she quelled it down, keeping her eyes closed and opening her senses like Oliver had taught her, to get a feel of her surroundings. 

 

_'Take a breath. Check your body. Feel what is damaged and what isn't.'_

 

Felicity remembered his words, his voice in her head, cool, collected, composed. It had taken a lot of heated arguments with Oliver being adamant that he could protect and her being adamant that she needed to protect herself, after which he had finally, ungraciously, given in to teach her how to get out of tricky situations, exactly like the one she was in.

She could see his face in her mind, his strong, stubborn jaw speaking as he tested her, over and over again.

He'd guide her through this. 

Taking a breath, without opening her eyes, Felicity let herself feel her own body, running a mental check. She could feel her knees burn from where she had dropped on the ground, her head pounding with a vengeance, her limbs sore from disuse. But other than that, everything else seemed to be okay. Except the most important thing, which she had no idea of checking. The baby. Felicity knew by now she had been drugged, and she knew it could have harmed the baby, but something in her, she didn't know what, but something that had become more and more prominent of late, told her that the baby, though still vulnerable, was fine. And just in case if...

 

_'Don't think of anything but getting yourself out. No other thoughts. Nothing.'_

 

Oliver's firm voice in her head broke through her panic again. And once it did, she suddenly realized, with a lot more clarity, how eerily silent it was. So silent she could hear her own soft, rhythmic breaths over the blood rushing to her ear. 

Why was it so silent?

And that was when she realized she was sitting. In a chair. A wooden chair. With her hands tied to the arms. The bonds were not rope. Something softer. Like scarves. Why would her kidnappers tie her up with scarves? And only her hands? 

Unable to stand the darkness any longer, she pried her lids apart slowly through sheer force of will, her eyes almost wanting to glue in the aftermath of the drug, whatever it had been. The moment her eyes opened, a sharp pain stabbed her in the head, almost as if punishing her. Wincing, she bit her lip, carefully looking around her. 

She was in an empty room. A small empty room, with dark gray walls, a single door from under which light filtered in, and the chair she sat on the only furniture. It reminded her of the interrogation rooms she'd seen on TV, only with a lot less light and a lot less people. It was depressing. 

 

_'Check the walls and ceiling for any monitoring devices. It'll keep your guard up.'_

 

Felicity quickly scanned the room with her eyes, ignoring her headache. She twisted her neck, to check the area behind her, and couldn't see a single electronic equipment. There wasn't even a light, for goodness' sake. Okay. So, no devices. 

But where was she? 

And why was she there? 

Almost as if universe decided to throw her a bone, the door to the room slid open just a fraction, enough for her to see the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. He looked tall from the silhouette, but lean, not muscled, and Felicity kept her eyes glued on him, watching like a hawk as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. 

Swallowing once, she stayed completely still, unable to see his face in the dark, only his silhouette, but keeping her eyes on him as he watched her silently. She knew it was a tactic to disconcert her, knew it was to get her unsettled. Which was exactly why she didn't break the silence with questions that hovered on the tip of her tongue. 

She waited. 

The man took a position against the door and spoke, his voice hard, edged, with very faint traces of accent she suspected became prominent when he got overwhelmed.

"I hope you are comfortable, Mrs. Queen."

She felt her eyebrows go up, but she remained silent, Oliver's voice in her head.

 

_'Gain whatever information you need to get out. Then, get out.'_

 

The man started walking slowly over the edge of the room, back and forth over the wall, speaking again. "Do you know why you are here?"

Felicity waited for the man to turn, to start walking, before twisting her wrists inside the scarves, finding the knot with her fingers, feeling them as she had a hundred times with Digg and Oliver. 

"This isn't personal against you. You are here because you married the wrong man."

The last of his words, spoken with that icy tone, made her still as she kept her eyes on him. The man liked talking, which meant with only slight incentive from her, he might just spill whatever information he had, whatever information she needed to get herself and her baby back to safety. 

Swallowing, she cleared her throat, making sure her voice didn't shake, and spoke. "Why do you say that?"

The man kept walking in front of her at the edge of the wall, back and forth, while Felicity kept feeling the knots in the scarves with her aching fingers, grateful for the darkness that cloaked her slight movements. 

"You've known Oliver Queen for two years," the man spoke again, the malice in his voice making goosebumps break out over her arms. "But everything before that is a blank isn't it? What do you truly know about your husband?"

"I know he is going to kill you," the words escaped Felicity before she could stop them, tumbling out as rage filled her at the audacity of this strange jerk, questioning anything about Oliver. She took a breath, calming herself down. 

The man laughed, a sound that never truly reached him but reverberated in the small room, washing over her skin, making it crawl. Bile rose up in her throat and she pushed it down, not wanting a single sign of vulnerability in front of this jackass. 

"Oh, he already killed me, once," the man chortled again. "Or tried. He failed and he has the scars to prove it."

"Who the fuck are you?" Felicity spit out, her anger shaking her frame. This man in front of her was responsible for scars on her husband's body, was responsible for pain he had had to survive, and Felicity saw red. 

The man stopped pacing, turning his head towards her. "I am a ghost from your husband's past, Mrs. Queen. One who has haunted him for seven years. One," his voice dropped, the ice in it sending shivers down her body, "who has a very old score to settle."

Gritting her teeth, Felicity felt the knot on her right hand loosen slightly. "And why did you want me here?"

The man laughed again before his voice faded. "In old times, when a man killed another, he had to die to pay for his crimes. If a man took something that didn't belong to him, something would be taken from him. It was simple. An eye for an eye."

Heart pounding, Felicity worked the knot looser, keeping her head straight, facing him, waiting for him to keep talking.

He stopped at the door, and suddenly she felt chilled with the way he watched her. Stomach churning, the bile threatening to rise up again, she gulped.

"For seven years," he spoke, the quiet in his voice eerie, scary. "I have watched Oliver Queen. I have watched, planned, but never truly executed my plans because the one deciding factor in all the equations had been missing, the one factor which would make my destruction of him absolute."

Hatred washed over her, running through her blood. Hatred for this man who wanted to destroy the man she loved, for this nameless stranger who wanted to take away happiness from the one man who truly deserved it. Knots momentarily forgotten, Felicity fisted her hands, willing the hatred filling her senses to back down, willing her head to clear, before working on the knots again, loosening them even more.

"He watched you for years," the man said quietly, the Russian accent in his voice thickening, telling her he was getting overwhelmed. "He married you. And still I waited."

Her hands suddenly stopped, his words flowing over her, her logical mind whirring. 

"I could have killed you any time over the last two years. I didn't, because it is not you alone I want."

Her body started shaking, the rage in it uncontrollable, something she had never felt before, not to this intensity, even before he was done speaking.

"I want to kill your child."

Her fingers dug into the wood, her entire body burning as she sat, her muscles clenched, breathing heavy.

 

_'Don't let anything goad you. Stay calm. Get out.'_

 

Oliver's voice filled her mind, and she closed her eyes, remembering his face every time he told her to stay calm. The way his blue eyes softened along with his voice, his touch gentle but firm, commanding her with that tenderness into relaxing. It was with that love that they'd made this life inside her. She'd be damned if she let anyone, let alone a maniac, touch that life. 

It worked enough to allow her to focus on the almost untied knots in the scarf, her fingers trembling from the rage accosting her body, not only for Oliver but for their baby. Their little jelly bean inside her stomach, breathing, living, moving with her. Protectiveness filled her on the heels of that rage, and she looked at the man, for the first time, as a hunter looked at its prey, looking for weak spots, her body, her mind, ready to do whatever it took to get them both to safety. To Oliver.

"I could have done it by now," the man continued, unfazed by the bomb he'd dropped on her. "But where is the victory in that? It is in seeing his face as he sees your child die in your womb. It is in seeing your marriage rot as you begin to hate. It is in killing you then, when he has nothing left, that victory lies."

The knots were done. Felicity sat still, waiting. 

The man came forward towards her, his silhouette evident against the light from under the door, giving her the perfect vantage as she remained in the shadows. Her eyes drifted to the scarves on her wrists. He had underestimated her. The asshole had tied her in scarves instead of ropes or handcuffs, and seriously undermined her ability when she was in a good mood. She wasn't in a good mood now. 

 

_'Take the first opening you get. You might not get one again.'_

 

Remembering, she waited for him to underestimate her again. He did. 

He dropped down on his haunches in front of her, his face barely visible with his back against the light, the stale stench of cigarettes invading her nose, making the bile roil inside her.

"Did daddy never tell you not to get in bed with bad guys?"

"No, you asshole," Felicity snarled, adrenaline and anger mingling inside her, ticking away like a bomb ready to explode. "My daddy practically shoved me in one."

The moment the last word was out of her mouth, Felicity slammed the palm of her right hand right into his nose, hearing the crunch of bone breaking and the loud wail that left his mouth. He clutched his nose, sitting on his knees, and before he could get up, Felicity stood on shaky legs, picking up the chair she'd been sitting on, and slammed it over his head.

The legs of the chair broke with the impact, the man staggering down on the floor, sprawled as he lost consciousness. Felicity picked up one of the broken legs, straightening her right arm, feeling her body hurt and ache as she stood barefoot on the cold floor, blood pounding in her ears and racing through her body, even as she shook, the anger not completely expelled, the bomb not completely exploded.

She poked the man's back gingerly with the wood, ascertaining he was out for the count, before leaning down and checking his pockets. His kind usually had a gun on him. A wave of dizziness made her blink the stars behind her lids away, her hands hating to touch the slimy bastard.

"We're going to be okay," she muttered softly to the baby, and to herself, trying to keep the fear at bay. She had no idea where she was, still in her dress, barefoot and drugged, with no idea of how to get out, no idea of how long she'd been there. 

Trembling, she closed her eyes for a second, remembering Oliver's face just that morning in bed, his rumpled hair as he'd pulled her in his arms, keeping her safe, his dimple peeking from under his scruff, his blue eyes soft on hers. She needed to get back to him. And she needed to get their baby out safely. 

_Get back to Oliver. Focus._

Exhaling deeply, she opened her eyes, finally feeling something metallic in one of the pockets. Bingo.

Pulling out the gun, a Glock thankfully, she checked to see if it was loaded, before checking his pockets for a phone. No luck.

Nodding to herself, she almost got up when the man turned. "You can't escape," he grit out. "They will kill you and your baby."

Before she could think, she slammed the wooden leg right on his head again, and he slumped with a groan. 

"It'll be a bullet in your head the next time, you bastard," she murmured, riding the adrenaline high and moving quietly towards the closed door. She had no idea what was on the other side. No clue how many people, armed or not. She could walk out and be riddled with bullets in a second. Or she could escape. 

_Get back to Oliver._

Taking a deep breath, keeping her arms straight, Felicity opened the door an inch, waiting on the side to see if anyone moved, keeping everything Oliver and Digg had told her about situations like these in mind. Nothing happened, and after counting till ten, she peeked out, trying to discern any movement. Nada.

Crouching low, even as it caused another bout of dizziness to gloss over her, she stepped outside the door, into a hallway of some kind. Closing the door behind her quickly, she checked the plain hallway of the same grey color, and moved towards the left. What she would give for a cell phone right now, just for the bloody GPS. But she had to make do. 

The corridor ended, and she peeked over it, seeing two men playing cards, dressed in black, near a door that said exit. Could it seriously be that easy? She doubted it.

Slowly, creeping along the wall in the shadows, she neared the door. The two men continued, distracted by their game. Adrenaline pumped furiously through her system.

Five steps away.

She took a step, staying along the edge, crouched down, and they didn't look up.

Another step. No reaction.

One more. They continued playing.

Two steps. Two steps away, one guard looked up from his cards, his eyes widening as he saw her there. His hand reached for his gun and Felicity straightened her arms, shooting him in the stomach, the recoil hitting her already aching shoulders, the nausea churning at the sight of blood. She shot the other man in the shoulder before he could even turn, opening the door marked exit, rushing out. They would have killed her, and her baby without second thought. She had no regrets.

The door opened into a huge warehouse. Felicity looked around, seeing glass work in places, but no people out here. Her eyes fell on the huge doors at the other end of the warehouse. Without a thought, she started sprinting towards it, hoping it would lead her outside, let her know at least where the hell she was. If she had any luck, there would be a car she could hot wire. 

Suddenly, the door she had exited from opened and two men ran out, armed and deadly. Felicity ducked behind a huge crate, looking towards the warehouse doors, her body hurting and mind dizzying. No. She had to get out. 

But she'd never really been in any gunfire before. And to say she was scared would be an understatement. A single bullet in the wrong place could hurt their baby. Her hands shook, tears spilling down her cheeks. Where was Oliver? Had he even received her message? Had Roy or Nik been able to reach any of them? She needed a little help. But she had none. Wiping away the tears, her mouth in a straight line, she thought of the mirror, of how much she wanted to see her baby bump in it, of how much she wanted to see Oliver's hand on the bump in it. 

She was getting out. No matter what she had to do. 

Standing up, she saw the backs of the men as they searched for her, and aimed her gun at their shoulders. Then she fired, with Diggle's voice in her head telling her to keep her feet apart and her shoulders relaxed, with Oliver's image in her mind. 

The men cried out, dropping down, firing a few shots in the air that shattered glass on the warehouse floor. Felicity didn't even think before sprinting away towards the door again, whimpering as glass pieces stuck under her bare feet. She felt the warm blood trickle down her sole, felt her feet get slippery in her own blood, but she kept running, stitches hurting her sides, chest heaving.

One man came at her from the side, disarming her before she could even lift her hand, tackling her to the ground. Panic caught her again. No, no, no, no.

Grabbing a piece of glass from the floor, her palm cutting, she struck it in the man's neck and pushed him off, looking down as he bled on the floor.

Stunned, she looked down at her scratched arms, dirt coating her skin and her dress ruined, covered in the man's blood, and almost heaved. Almost. But the door was just a few steps away, and she needed to get back to Oliver, to safety before giving up. 

Hauling herself up, her feet hurting and pinching as she limped towards the door, picking up the gun, sweat marring her body, Felicity almost reached it when she looked back, to see two more men, ready to give her chase at the other end. 

Heart kicking, calling upon the last burst of strength in her exhausted body, Felicity opened the warehouse door and ran into the night, into a clearing without any vehicles at all, tapering off into the woods. Frustration clawing at her insides, she kept running, aware of the men chasing her, knowing she couldn't get caught or she would die, the baby would die, and Oliver would destroy himself, and that was just not acceptable. 

_Get back to Oliver._

Oliver.

Almost as though she conjured him, she suddenly saw him run out of the woods, shock clear on his face as he ran towards her. 

Had she finally lost her mind? Was she truly hallucinating him, now that she knew she could not escape? Was it her mind's last ditch effort to protect her?

She didn't care. All she cared was that she could see him. She could see him and she needed to reach him before the men chasing her reached her.

Heart stuttering, blood pounding, head throbbing, body aching, covered in dirt and blood of another man on her chest, slipping in her own blood at her feet, with tears streaking down her face as sobs caught her chest, tightening her throat, she ran towards him, just needing to feel his arms keeping her safe, needing to tell him that she'd kept their baby safe. 

And then she saw Digg and other men follow Oliver out the woods, and her step faltered as she realized, by some bizarre luck, that she wasn't hallucinating. 

He was there. He was _right there_ , running towards her in full speed, shouting her name as the others ran towards the warehouse. 

Her step faltered again, and suddenly all the strength she'd had in her body, everything she'd been holding together by the frayed edges, all of it just sapped. 

The realization that Oliver was there was more than anything else she needed. Almost as though her body understood what his presence meant, her knees gave away. She collapsed on them, her body limp just as she saw Oliver skid on his knees to reach her, catching her right before she fell over, one arm around her waist, one holding her head. 

"Felicity?" he spoke urgently, his panicked eyes looking her up and down, his huge body shielding hers and his arms holding her pliant against him. Felicity almost smiled, the heaviness in her limbs something she did not fight anymore. He was there. 

"солнышко, look at me, baby," Oliver urged her, his voice frantic, his hands shaking her before he softly pushed her hair away from her face. Her heart clenched at the tender gesture as she clutched fistfuls of his shirt, swallowing. 

"We're okay," she croaked softly, as he leaned down, trying to catch her words. She felt him stiffen slightly, before he pulled her closer into his chest, one hand cradling her head, his voice rumbling through her body, the tone deadly as he addressed someone else behind her.

"Find everyone who touched her. But no one touches them. Only me."

The tone in his voice would have made her shiver had she not known him. The moment the person behind her was gone, she felt him turn to her, his voice soft, gentle, nothing like it had been seconds ago. 

"солнышко," he murmured, cradling her closer as he picked her up in his muscular arms and stood up. Felicity just opened her eyes once as the world tilted, holding onto him, seeing his blue eyes looking down at her with a mix of concern and alarm and that soft look he only reserved for her, and she felt another tear escape her eyes, her entire body trembling as she the reality of the past few hours set in. 

"Shh, I'm here," he spoke softly, walking towards the woods. "I'm right here, baby. You're safe. You both are safe. Just stay awake for me, okay, солнышко? Just keep those beautiful eyes on me." 

It was hard. To find her voice. To keep her eyes open. It was almost as though her entire body had crashed the moment it had realized safety. 

Something shook her once. 

"Felicity," Oliver's alarmed voice called out. "Baby, I need you to stay awake for me. C'mon. Stay with me, солнышко."

Her body didn't want to. She'd fought and clawed and got out for him. She just wanted to sleep. 

"Don't you dare sleep on me, Felicity Smoak-Queen!" he ordered and Felicity almost woke up to give him a finger. Almost.

"солнышко...,"

She collapsed against his chest, defying all his wishes and words, his woodsy scent wrapping around her over the rusty stench blood and sweat, ensconced in the safety of his arms, with only one thought in her mind.

She had made it back to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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	15. Ignite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Yes, yes, yes! PhoenixFridays are back! Every Friday, this story will be updated. I have the schedule for other fics worked out and I'll be posting it tomorrow on social media, and also announcing it in the notes before the stories.
> 
> Now that that's done, thank you so, so much for the incredible love you are giving this story. Seriously, I'd never expected the sequel to do so well. I'm thrilled y'all are enjoying it. I haven't been able to reply to the comments on the previous chapter but I will. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Long one too. Stuff happens. Not the adrenaline filled stuff. Other stuff. Enjoy!
> 
> Do leave me your thoughts. I absolutely love hearing from you. The feedback feeds the muse.
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Voices. 

There were voices. Hushed, whispered words. Jumbled words that refused to find coherent sense in her brain. 

Felicity opened her eyes. Or rather tried to. She failed. Her lids were heavy, the heaviest they had ever been, glues together. Her body felt light, almost weightless, in slumber even as her brain woke up.

She tried to move her toes, get them to work, but they refused to budge, as did her fingers, and every other part of her body. Why? 

"Are they all here?"

Oliver. His soft, whispered voice flowed over her senses. Something inside her stretched languorously hearing that rough, husky voice, making her want to smile and roll over in it like a happy puppy. She let herself luxuriate in the feeling, her chest warming at the knowledge that she was safe. Whatever reason she couldn't wake up for didn't matter, because if Oliver was there, everything was right. She wasn't unsafe. She wasn't hunted. She wasn't tied to a chair in a dimly lit room worrying about her jelly bean of a baby.

And that's when the lethal tone of his voice penetrated. That wasn't the soft voice that whispered sin over her skin at night and wrapped her in a cocoon. That wasn't the voice of mirrors and rain and sheets. It was the soft, husky voice of death, with the kind of stillness a jaguar has when his eyes are feasted upon it's prey. This voice would have made her shiver with fear had it not been the safest voice on earth for her. 

"Yes."

Digg. Even his voice lacked the normal warmth. There was that hard, solid steel in his tone, one she'd never heard directed at herself. What the hell was going on?

"You need to stay here, Oliver," she heard Digg say quietly. 

"What I need to do is make examples," Oliver spoke, his tone never changing, the softness somehow adding to the looming fatality in it.

"She.."

"Is exactly where she belongs," Oliver interrupted Digg silently. "But I am going to go down. I have a reputation of not killing but this crossed the line. No one, _no one,_ touches a single hair on her head and gets to tell the tale. A message needs to be sent out, and I'm going to enjoy sending it."

The ensuing silence was thick. Felicity, although physically still, wiggled in her mind uncomfortably, wanting to open her eyes and look at Oliver, wanting to hold out her arms to him and tempt him into just snuggling into bed beside her, to wipe the murder on his face and smooth his brows till he looked at her with those soft blue eyes, that almost smile on his lips, his fingers tracing her spine. She willed herself to open her eyes, to croak out a word, a sound, plain gibberish, anything. And only found frustration. What was she on anyways? Was the drug hurting the baby? 

She shook the thought away before she could complete it. Of course this drug wouldn't be hurting the baby. Oliver would never allow that. Relieved, at least on that account, she tried to listen to the men breathe in whatever room she was in. She didn't. She heard the clock ticking somewhere, the sound ominous and loud. She heard the faint beeping of some sort of machine, which she almost immediately realized she was hooked into, although she didn't feel the prick of the needle and she should since she was an absolute ninny about them. She heard the faint sound of rain splattering on the glass of a window, proximity of which told her it was in the same room. But she didn't hear the men breathing. 

Had she not known how silent they could be when they wanted, had she not felt their presence in the room - her husband and her older brother - she would have thought she was alone. But they would never really leave her alone when she was, well, helpless, which was a state of being she hated more than she hated the word. She could count the number of people on one hand whom she could accept seeing her like this, and at the top of the list were these two men without a doubt. 

"Donna wants to see her," Felicity heard Digg break the tense silence quietly. Her mother. Shit. What had they told her had happened? Come to think of it, what exactly had happened? She remembered being abducted by a crazy lunatic with grandiose plans for revenge and remembered running out of the warehouse. She remembered Oliver catching her but everything after that seemed pretty much a blank. How long had she been blank? What was wrong with her? She'd had cuts and bruises and severe exhaustion, that much she knew. Had it been some sort of after effect of the drug? Was their baby okay? Was Oliver okay?

Oliver's steely voice broke her climbing anxiety. "Nobody sees her right now. Only us."

Felicity could almost picture Digg nod curtly. "Only us."

Silence again. 

She probably used more words in a day than these two did in a year. Combined. She screamed in frustration internally. Then sighed internally. 

Lips pressed into her forehead softly, once, before pressing into her cheek. 

"я люблю тебя."

Everything inside Felicity just melted. All her worries and fears and anger, just gone. Slithered away under the force of his simple words. Because she knew her husband. He'd confessed his love in Russian the first time because he hadn't been certain of her response. Night after night he'd etched the words into her heart, so deeply that by the time she'd reciprocated, there had been no walls, nothing between them. But since then, though Oliver told her he loved her every chance he got, the only time he ever said it in Russian was when he was overwhelmed, because he needed some sort of connection to their past, to the reminder of how she'd spoken those very words to him. 

Had she been able to, Felicity would have pulled him into her chest in that moment, whispering the words back into his skin, keeping him with her. Her heart ached with the intensity of that desire, but even then, her body refused to cooperate. 

The lips pressed another soft kiss to her head, this softness completely belying the rage she knew pulsed in his blood at that very moment. And then they were gone.

"Stay with her, Digg."

She knew he was gone too. 

She wanted to call him back, knowing the blood and the death he would perpetrate would scar him even more, make him feel less like the beautiful man he was.

A large, warm hand wrapping over her own made her thoughts halt. The hand squeezed hers as a chair squeaked - she could imagine Digg folding his huge, hulky frame into it- and a loud sigh filled the room. 

"I don't know if you can hear me, Felicity," Digg's quiet, solid voice warmed her, the urge to nod vicious inside her. "But I'm going to assume you can."

_ She could. She could! _

"First, know that the little guy is okay."

_Oh thank goodness._

The crushing relief almost locked the breath in her chest. Or would have had she been able to control any motion at all. She would have slumped onto the floor with the staggering emotion had she been standing. 

Digg continued, clueless to the things happening inside her. 

"Things with your man are  _bad,_ Felicity," the grave tone of his voice tugged at her heart. "Perhaps the worst I've ever seen. He's walking so close to the line right now, and the only thing keeping on this side of it is you. So, just wake up real soon because I don't know how much more he can take."

Her heart clenched, the need to get up, get the fuck up and hunt Oliver so, so acute it was almost painful. 

"And the house is too quiet without you," Digg solemnly continued. "You scared all of us pretty bad."

Holy google. How long had she been out?

"Roy is taking it the hardest I think, after Oliver that is. He thinks he should have protected you, but god knows had he not been with Thea that night, what we would have found."

Was Thea okay? Raisa? Oh god, what had happened that night? And who had been those people? 

"The boy is so worried about you. You're family to him, you know."

He was her family to too. 

"Raisa is up. Recovering slowly but she's good. You're in her bed now, in fact. The one she had been in."

Which meant she was in the mansion. In the med room. Good. 

The buzzing of a phone filled the air. Felicity focused on the sound as Digg stood up from the chair, his hand leaving hers, and walked away with slight footsteps.

"Yes?"

She heard his side of the conversation.

"I'm sorry but you need to speak with Oliver for that. As far as I'm concerned, unless Oliver gives the okay, no one is going to see her."

No one?

"That's fine by me. He's in the house. You can meet him."

Lethargy seeped over her with each word Digg spoke, even as curiosity assailed her. The clarity in her mind left, leaving everything hazy and baffling, so exhausting she felt like she'd run a marathon, the laziness pulling her under even though she'd not opened her eyes or lifted a finger.

Knowing she was in her home, with a man who would watch over her and her baby with his life, Felicity let her mind sleep.

* * *

There was a couch in the room. 

Why was there a couch in the room? 

Following the train of that thought, Felicity blinked repeatedly, and looked around, to check if she was in the right room. Warm beige walls greeted her, along with two medical cabinets she knew held the equipment. Brown curtains hung over the windows and the french doors that opened into the lawn had been locked with two dead bolts. Frowning at that particular detail, she took in the room, seeing the door to the bathroom right in front of bed. Machines beside the bed were hooked into her arms, beeping softly, along with a drip she couldn't read the tag of without her glasses. The space was lighted only slightly.

The entire room looked exactly as it should have, except for the huge couch that loomed menacingly between the door and the bed where she lay. It wasn't placed against the wall, or tucked into the spacious corner of the room. No. It was smack in the middle of the floor, looming, looking way out of place. 

And within seconds, she realized she knew the couch. 

It was the couch from their bedroom - the couch on which Oliver had slept uncomfortably early on in their marriage, when she had been hogging the entire bed. 

"Oh, Oliver," the croaked whisper escaped her lips as her eyes watered, realization dawning upon her, pieces of conversations when she'd been unconscious coming back to her. 

Her mad, mad husband had moved the bedroom couch into the medical room and placed it between the only point of entry and her. Her crazy, overprotective husband had slept on that couch, night after night, while she'd recovered. Her heart clenched, the need to see him _so_ profound.

Clearing her throat, she found her voice, even cracked as it was from disuse. 

"Oliver?" she called out, sensation slowly filling her body, making her take inventory. 

Her feet were wrapped in white gauze bandages completely, bruises littering her exposed arms, some still blue, some fading. That was also the first time she noticed the clothes she was wearing. His t-shirt and her loose flannel pajamas with bunnies. Oliver always smiled and shook his head in fond exasperation whenever she wore it, before snuggling into her and murmuring how much sexier they made her. 

She knew, deep in her bones, that he'd dressed her, chosen the clothes she would wear, covered her in his scent. Because his scent, that clean musky scent, always comforted her. 

The door opened, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

She looked up to see Roy peek inside the room, the hopeful look on his face breaking her heart. 

"Hello handsome," she smiled slightly, wanting to put him at ease. 

Roy entered the room, closing the door behind him, his blue eyes relieved with bags under them. 

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice concerned, his eyebrows pulled down.

"Like I kicked a lot of ass," Felicity spoke, smiling wider.

Roy huffed a laugh, the relief on his face more prominent this time. "You sure did. Digg's feeling pretty good about it."

Felicity chuckled. "He's a good teacher."

"And you're quite a mama bear," Roy commented, his lips lifting in a more natural smile.

Felicity's breath halted for a second, before the smile split her face. "You should know. I'm always mothering you."

Roy smiled slightly, before a frown pulled his lips down. Felicity's heart stuttered. "How bad is it?"

He sighed. "What part?"

Lead filled her gut. "Tell me everything."

Roy walked over to the window, a heavy hand rubbing his face, exhaustion written in every line of his body, making him look so much older. A part of her wanted to order him to go to bed and sleep the week off. The other part knew she couldn't. Not yet.

"A lot has happened," he spoke quietly. 

Felicity swallowed. "How long was I out?"

"Almost two weeks."

Frack. "What happened?" she asked just as quietly, her mind spinning with questions.

Roy spoke, his voice hard. "The house was attacked. They were looking for you but you were in the office. I stayed here with Thea and Raisa while you were all the over there, alone. God, Felicity, you should have let me come to you. For the baby. I should've.."

"Roy," Felicity interrupted firmly before he could speak more, knowing the guilt had to be eating him alive, especially since his job was her protection. "Don't blame yourself for my decision. It was my call, and my call only. You kept Thea and Raisa safe and I am home. That's all that matters."

Roy stared at her for a long moment, before nodding, his throat working as he swallowed, his hands shoved in the pockets of his black hoodie.

"By the time Nik and I got stuff under control, we realized you'd been taken," he gulped once, his eyes distant. "Oliver and Digg returned just then."

"What happened, Roy?" Felicity asked, her breath in her throat.

Roy focused on her for a second before his eyes got that distant look again. "Oliver pretty much lost it when we told him. Broke almost everything in the hall. I've never seen him so livid. For the first time, I felt scared of him."

Her hand twisted the sheet in her fist, her heart thumping. Roy continued. "Digg had to get in his face, make him focus. And then he just calmed down. Like icy calm. That honestly scared the shit out of me. The man became a machine, ordering everyone around, gathering men to get you back. Only Digg was getting to him, barely. He even shut Thea out. He looked at me for this one second and it..." Roy shuddered. Roy _I-am-badass-and-I-can-flip-over-you-ass_ Harper shuddered. 

Oh lord. It was bad. Like bad _bad._  

She swallowed. "How did they find me?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Oliver just did something on his phone and told everyone where to go and what to do."

A pause. "Almost an hour later, Digg called to say you were in the hospital. The doctors said it was severe blood loss and exhaustion. It's a miracle you didn't lose the baby."

Her hands automatically went to her stomach and her heart stopped. 

There was a bump. Not a big one, but just slight. Her little jelly bean had grown while she'd been sleeping, and made her stomach bulge just slightly.

Felicity felt the newness in her body, having completely missed the growth. She felt angry at being deprived of this time. She felt odd at feeling the contours of her own body changed under her hands, even slight as they were. She felt such sheer happiness, at feeling their baby under the palm of her hands, feeling the proof of it's existence, especially after everything that had happened. Her baby was living, breathing, under her skin - already a survivor like its father. 

Such love filled her heart that she almost missed Roy's next words. Almost. 

"The baby is okay, but the doctors said the pregnancy became complicated now. With you unconscious, almost in a coma, it got hard. And even though the little guy's good, he's vulnerable."

Her hands clenched on her stomach protectively, before she slowly soothed it out over the cotton of the t-shirt. This was the child of a man who had survived such unknown horrors and come out a victor, a child that carried her own strength in itself. Survival was in its genes. The jelly bean would be just fine.

"He'll be okay," she voiced her conviction, looking Roy dead in the eyes, daring him to refute. 

Roy nodded. "He will. We'll all take care of him."

Felicity almost smiled except... "What happened then?"

"Well, you stayed at the hospital for a few nights and then Oliver asked if there was anything they could do for you there that he couldn't here."

Felicity nodded, understanding. "He wanted me back at home."

"More than that," Roy added. "He wanted you where he could protect you. Once you were transferred here, he didn't let anyone except Digg see you for days. Except your gynecologist. She comes everyday to check on you and the little guy."

Felicity's eyebrows shot up. "Dr. Nelson? She comes everyday for a checkup?"

Roy nodded, shrugging. "Oliver asked her to."

She hoped he'd just asked. Although from what she was gathering, in the mood he must have been in, asking would pretty much have had the same effect as dangling someone upside down over a bridge. 

"So?" she prodded, needing to know more. 

"So, nothing. You've been sleeping, resting. The baby is okay. Either Digg or I stay here during the day. Oliver stays at night. No one else is allowed to enter the room."

Felicity bit her lip, wanting to ask about the bad guys, about how much destruction Oliver had caused. But something, some sense of protectiveness, some inherent knowledge a woman has of a man, told her it was a vulnerability. And only she was allowed to see him vulnerable like that. No one else.

Nodding, Felicity picked up the water from beside the bed, feeling surprisingly strong for a woman supposed to have been sleeping for weeks. She sipped some through the straw, down her parched throat.

"Has the maid been fired?" she asked.

Roy chuckled. "The only people on staff are now personally vouched by either Digg or Oliver himself. No one else."

Good. "Where is he?"

Roy placed the glass on the table after taking it from her hand. "Out." 

Of course he was. Cleaning up messes and sending messages.

"But he'll be back before nightfall," Roy informed her with complete certainty. "He comes in, takes his dinner here, works here, sleeps here. The man has practically moved into the room."

Before Felicity could respond to it, Roy's phone buzzed. He looked down at whatever message he'd received and exhaled.

"Gotta go, but I'm glad you're awake," he said, tucking the sheets beside her and squeezing her hand once. "Don't scare us like that, okay? This is not a good place to live in without you."

Heart flowing with emotions, she squeezed his hand back. "I missed you too."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Okay, this has filled my quota of emotional bonding."

Felicity chuckled at the dry tone. "You're a puppy at heart, Roy Harper."

"Woof,"Roy grinned, walking towards the door and walking out, the door locking behind him. 

Felicity took a deep breath, her eyes drifting to the empty couch that had held her husband's body, her hand drifting to the skin of her very slightly rounded stomach under the t-shirt, her mind drifting to sleep.

* * *

 

Felicity stood beside the window in the medical room, dressed in a fresh pair of her shorts and his t-shirt that had been in one of the drawers in the room. 

She'd woken up almost near noon when Ms. Nelson had been checking her blood pressure, with Digg standing guard behind her. He had smiled, the relief on his face stark, the happiness on his face warm when she had grumbled about wanting a bath. Ms. Nelson had unhooked her from the machines, telling her she was almost completely recovered but ordering her to take it easy the next few days. That was one order Felicity had no problem following, especially since how close she had come to losing the baby had been explained to her, in detail. She'd also been told that morning sickness would become her good friend, along with weakness and cravings and emotional outbursts. Yes, she'd read those books. 

She had had some soup and juice, felt her taste buds explode after such a hibernation and gone for her real bath in a long time, removing her bandages and taking a moment to explore the changes in her body. Her breasts had been a little sensitive, her skin bruised and cut but her eyes had lingered on the little tummy she'd felt last night. Her belly had been just slightly curved out, so slight nobody would have noticed in her dresses, but she did. And she knew Oliver would have too. He knew her body better than she did, just like she knew his. 

Standing beside the window now, after sending Ms. Nelson off, taking the few meds she'd prescribed and sneaking a long, warm hug from Digg that had made her feel like a little, lost girl coming come, she watched her husband for the first time in weeks.

He stood in the lawn, shirtless, wearing a pair of loose army cargo pants and sneakers, surrounded by five men. Five huge men. 

The sun shone hard and bright, making the grass even more green and the black uniform of the other guards even more black, gleaming off the sweat sheened torso of the man in the center. She took in the scene. It was evident he was training, but she couldn't understand why not in the basement on the ladder of lust. Why was he out there, shirtless and surrounded by so many men? The maximum she'd seen him train with had been two, and that too at her father's house two years ago. Although she knew he could handle multiple men, she'd never seen or known he trained with that many. 

Curious, and fascinated, Felicity watched quietly from beside the window. 

All the men around her husband stood silent, still, and he stood in the center, weaponless and quiet. 

Suddenly, almost as though some silent signal had been sent, the men converged. 

Her heart slid to her throat, her hand gripping the windowsill so tight her knuckles started to hurt, her eyes glued to the scene unfolding before her. She knew the men were their own and not actual threats. She knew. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter an iota as she watched them attack the man she loved.

The men moved from different sides. 

The first man came at Oliver from the side. Oliver, before the man had barely reached his personal space, kicked his leg out to the side, hitting the first man right in the ribs while simultaneously elbowing the man who came at him from the opposite side in the face. In the split moment it took those two to recover, Oliver turned, lightening fast, and flipped the man coming at him from the back on his ass, dropping to his haunches just at another man kicked the space his face had been in. Oliver hit the man in the knee while his leg was still in the air and swiftly got up, punching the other guy in the ribs. 

Four men were down and there was not a scratch on Oliver. 

Felicity stared, awed and completely floored by the swiftness of his movements, by the lethal control in his muscles, by the sinuous flow of his body. She was awed and stunned by it all. But she was worried as she suddenly saw in those movements the rage he was keeping caged inside him, saw in each kick and punch the frustration clawing at him to find an outlet and unable to.

The last man came at him with some sort of a stick that she knew had a fancy name she had no idea about. Before he'd even swung it, Oliver had him unarmed, twisting and turning the weapon with such crazy speed she could barely see it and hitting the guy below the knees, swiping his legs from under him and tripping him on his ass. 

Oliver stood standing there, his chest heaving, the muscles in his back working with each breath he took, his skin shining with the sweat on his body, one hand beside him holding the stick loosely, the other hand clenched into a fist. Felicity could feel the fury pulse in the air around him. She could see his need to scream in frustration at being unable to vent that rage out. She knew why he'd chosen so many men - to lose himself in the physicality of it, to let go of the anger holding him in its clutches. 

Her heart bled for him. 

She knew. She wouldn't let him succumb to this madness. Not while she was breathing and not after. No. Nobody and nothing would make him spiral into that hole.

Inhaling deeply, she moved to the French doors, unlocking the multiple locks, her heart thudding, and pulled them open. The heat of the sun hit her the moment she stepped outside, a drop of sweat rolling down between her breasts, tickling her skin as she stepped into the small veranda, her eyes on his back. 

The moment she did, she saw his body still, completely still, almost as though he wasn't breathing. 

And then he turned his neck, his eyes coming exactly to where she stood, as though he'd known where she was. She couldn't make out the look in his eyes this far off, not even his face, but she could read his body. 

He threw the stick to the ground and turned on his heel, not glancing once at the men behind him, or anyone on the sides. 

No. His eyes, those blue, blue eyes she'd not seen for days, weeks, lifetimes came into focus as he strode towards her, every line in his body harsh, every muscle in his body coiled, the expression in his face as fierce as the look in his eyes. That wild, primal look made her heart stop for a second, before it started thundering in her chest, her throat working as she swallowed. She could see why people who didn't know him would've been scared out of their wits. She could see, in each swift step he took, he was a force all on his own. 

Their eyes locked, the gaze crackling with tension, of so many unspoken things and memories, of so much heat it pulsed in her body, her blood rushing through her veins, filling her body with a liquid fire only he had been able to incite inside her. She didn't notice the sun with the heat in her blood, didn't notice the men looking because he was walking towards her and his eyes had imprisoned her gaze, not allowing her to look anywhere else. Not that she wanted to. The muscles on his torso flexed with each step he took, the tendons in his hands clenched, that one vein in his neck standing out invitingly while the look in his eyes alone was enough to melt her right there on the spot. 

This fierce, fierce man. All hers. 

He stepped into her personal space the moment he reached her, eyes locked with hers.

Felicity tilted her head back, blinking up at him. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, feel his breaths whisper over her face, feel her heart pound as her walls clenched, the aura of all things sex and heated all around him, her sensitive breasts feeling heavier as she just stood there, chest heaving as though she'd been the one to cross the lawn and reach him and not the other way round.

She waited for him to touch her - to hold her face in his hands like he loved or hold her hips and crudely pull her into him. She waited for him to press their foreheads together, to take a hold of her hand, to caress her stomach.

He did nothing.

He just stood before her, never blinking, never breaking their intense stare. He stood so, so close she could brush his chest with a deep breath, press their her body against his gleaming skin with one subtle shift. But she was rooted to the spot, the absolutely raw, feral look in his eyes holding her stunned.

She didn't know how long they stood there like that, with the sun beating his back as he shielded her from it, his eyes, his body, his entire being focused on her but not a single hair moving to close the distance between them.

After long, long minutes, Felicity took a deep breath, her eyes locked with his hypnotic blue ones, and took a step back towards the door. 

He took one forward right in sync with her.

A sudden thrill shot through her already buzzed body. She took another step backwards, and he took one forward at the same time, the distance between them never fluctuating, the look in his eyes never changing, the throbbing of her pulse never calming.

And she took another.

So did he.

The look never changed. The gap never changed.

Another step back. And his forward.

The heat coming off his skin threatened to burn her. The heat inside her almost did.

One last step back - and his forward - and her back pressed against the door. Felicity never broke their gaze, pushing her arm behind her, the movement brushing just the tips of her nipples against his sweat soaked chest. Sensation shot through her body, making her gasp.

It was almost as though the sound broke him.

Before she knew it, the door was open and she was in the room, immediately being pushed against it as the door locked again.

Felicity blinked, slightly dazed at the quick movement and through the haze of hunger assaulting her, her skin shivering slightly at the sudden change in temperature, at the sudden cool air against her overheated flesh.

Oliver put his hands on the door beside her head, staring down at her with the same expression. Except there was a slight vulnerability in his eyes behind everything, a fear so profound she could almost taste it. Calming at that look, she swallowed, and looked at him, properly looked at him, feeding her starved eyes every inch of his face.

There were circles under his eyes, exhausted, tired circles that spoke of his lack of sleep and his worry, his scruff longer than it usually was, telling her he had not been taking care of himself, a tight line to his lips she hated seeing. Swallowing at the way her heart clenched, she saw the vein in his neck throbbing and slowly, very slowly, raised her left hand to place it on his neck.

The moment she touched his skin, his eyes closed, his head coming down to rest against her forehead. Ah, there he was.

He breathed her in deeply as she did him, the scent of his sweat mingling with the woodsy, musky scent that was all him, her senses reawakening from their slumber, her body recognizing that scent as its counterpart, her mind focused on bringing him back to her. She let him breathe as much of her as he wanted, standing with her back against the door in the dimly lit room, her attention on the man before her.

Slowly, she felt his head lower from her head to the crook of her neck, felt his inhale and his exhale against her exposed skin. Her heart ached for the two weeks she had lost in their lives, ached for the road he'd had to walk alone without her for those weeks, ached for the man who'd buried himself so deep inside he would carry those scars for the rest of his life. But he wouldn't carry them alone.

Standing on her toes to let him breathe in the crook of her neck easier, because she craved the need to get closer to him, she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

A huge shudder wracked his frame before suddenly, he was holding her against him, his huge, muscular arms wrapped completely around her smaller frame, his head buried in her neck as he continued to breathe, the sweat of his skin soaking the cotton of her t-shirt where her breasts were crushed against his chest, his hard erection pressing against her stomach but somehow only remaining as the undercurrent of the moment. She held onto his slick muscles, running her fingers through his hair and feeling the rasp of his scruff against her soft skin. 

And because she was pressed as she was to him, she felt it. Shivers. Long continuous shivers wracking his body, his hold getting tighter but not suffocating, his head burrowing deeper into her neck.

Felicity's heart clenched, her lips trembling as tears filled her eyes, the sudden realization of how close she had come to losing him, to losing this, how close he had come to losing himself, everything crashing upon her. Her arms tightened around him just as she felt wetness on her neck.

And she broke.

Her body heaved in a hiccup as his shivered, their skins wet from the other's eyes, their arms locked around the other, caging, shielding, anchoring, their miracle safe and protected between them.

Felicity closed her eyes and let herself feel, just as his head turned slightly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

Her heart bled at the fact that the man who snapped necks with a twist of his wrist broke down against hers.

It filled with love at the soft kisses he pressed to her.

He finally, after long, long minutes, broke the silence, whispering a single word in her ear, a word just for her, a word that was his prayer and promise and penance in one. 

"солнышко."

And right there, after days of being lost, she was finally home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> я люблю тебя- I love you  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? Please do let me know! :)
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. :)
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
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	16. Ascend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I'm so happy to see everyone so excited for the PhoenixFridays! It's simply heart-warming. Thank you for the love! I'm so thrilled y'all are enjoying the story. I haven't been able to reply to the comments on the previous chapter but I will ASAP, but do leave me your thoughts on this one. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. Some questions are answered stuff. Some. Enjoy!
> 
> Do leave me your thoughts. I absolutely love hearing from you. The feedback feeds the muse.
> 
> Happy reading!!!

He hadn't kissed her. 

After he'd held her for long, long minutes, he'd just gently picked her up and set her down on the couch, and walked to the window, standing silently as he gazed outside. It had been minutes of him gazing out and her gazing at him. Minutes of silence broken by the ticking clock. Minutes of her seeing him drowning in his own dark place.

She _hated_ the distance he'd put between them. She understood it, but she hated it. 

It didn't really surprise her, not knowing him as she did. The fact that he was even standing in the same room was proof of how far they'd come. He'd been ready to annul their marriage once when he'd been in this mood back in the day. So, she'd expected the distance. She'd been prepared for it. But she was exasperated. And annoyed. She'd just woken up after a two-week long sleep and though he'd hovered over her for the entirety of it, he refused to even look at her now.

Combined with her already sour mood, she was just itching for a fight.

She clenched her jaw. "Are you planning on staring out that window for the rest of our married life?"

His back stiffened, the muscles tightening one after the other, fascinating her as she ogled them, the scars flexing above them. Even after years, his body still made her gawk. She just controlled it better when he was like this.

He turned towards her, leaning back against the windowsill, folding his arms across his bare, broad chest, the muted lights in the room casting shadows over his frame, even the light choosing the best parts to cling to. She couldn't blame it, really.

"How did you escape?" he asked, his tone rigid, hard, almost combative, breaking her out of her thoughts. She could still feel the need to plummet someone coursing through him and realized that just like her, he was spoiling for a fight too.

"How did you find me?" she fired back, not bowing back an inch, staring at him evenly from where she sat against the cushions, knowing they'd have to hash it out once to even begin talking calmly.

His blue eyes locked with hers, blazing, completely like how they had been an hour ago.

He raised his eyebrows.

She raised hers. 

His jaw hardened.

"There's a tracker in your wedding ring," he grit out.

And _that, right there_  was her reason.

Felicity blinked at him, her spine stiffening as anger seeped into her. _"Excuse me?"_  

Oliver shrugged. _Shrugged._  

"Since when?" she asked, her voice rising as she didn't even try to control her anger. 

"Since the wedding," he replied, completely unruffled. That only sent her temper soaring.

Felicity got to her feet, her fingers turning into her palms as her fists tightened.

"How dare you?" she demanded in a loud voice.

His teeth gnashed. "Calm yourself down." 

"I'll calm myself down when I want to!"

"You're just spoiling for a fight, Felicity," he told her in an even voice. Hearing him say it though just spurred her. She closed the distance between them, shoving him in the chest once. "That's because I'm fucking frustrated, Oliver!"

"And you think I'm not?" he demanded in a loud voice. "You think it's been easy for me seeing you lying on that bed, day after day, with fucking machines telling me you were alive? You think it's been easy waiting for the doctor to tell me everyday that our baby is okay? You think it's been good for me hunting down every single bastard and ripping them to pieces for even daring to be a part of something that hurt you? You think it's been easy living with myself knowing I couldn't protect you? _Do you?_ "

He was breathing heavily by the time he was done, his voice loud and eyes blazing in fury, muscles stretched taut over his body as he breathed down over her like an enraged dragon. Her own heart clenched at seeing him like this, her own need to fight and take her frustration out deflating.

"You did protect me, Oliver," she told him quietly. He shook his head, looking away, not accepting her understanding. 

"You saved yourself and our baby, Felicity," he spoke, his voice calmer. "And I'm so fucking proud I feel like my chest would burst. Except I just never wanted you to be in a situation like that."

Felicity grit her teeth. "You know it had to happen sometime, Oliver. That's why you prepared me for it. That's how I got out."

The leftover anger stirred at his non-response. "Now, the tracker. What was it for? To keep a track of where I go?"

Felicity saw him still completely. His eyes narrowed and she saw hurt flash over his eyes before he cloaked it. 

"I would never invade your privacy like that," he spoke in an icy tone, his voice hard. "It was a precaution to find you in case the need ever arose. For the first time, it did. And I found you."

Felicity deflated, running her fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry," she spoke quietly, her eyes locked with his. "I know you wouldn't have invaded my privacy that way. But you could have told me."

"After Ilyich, it just fell away," he shrugged again. "It had honestly slipped my mind till that night."

She still shuddered thinking of Ilyich.

Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward towards him. Her eyes drifted to his lips, those lips she'd tasted so many times, and the need to touch him almost overpowered her. It had been days. _Days._  She needed to taste him, just once. To reassure herself that they still had each other. It was something so basic in her, in him, in them. 

Except he straightened, his body tensed. She stopped, her heart pounding in dread. Their eyes locked.

"We should talk first," he spoke quietly.

Felicity frowned, nodding and sat back down on the couch, hoping it would keep them calm. She folded her legs under her, leaning against the side, and bit her lip, waiting for him to begin talking, her stomach knotting in trepidation. Her fingers played with her rings in nervous habit, the realization that there was a tracker embedded in them odd but somehow comforting, because had Oliver not found her when he had, she didn't even want to think of what might have happened. 

Oliver sighed, his entire body heaving and hunching, almost as though all the energy had drained out of him, and Felicity resisted the urge to walk over and soothe his brow, to rub her hand over his back. He needed to talk so she'd let him talk. Except she remembered the last time they'd talked like this. It hadn't been a good day. Shaking away the memories that didn't want to be shaken, she focused on the way he sat down in the arm chair beside the window, his entire body coiled. 

"Fuck, I've told this to you over and over in my head and now I don't even know where to start," he cursed, frustration evident in his voice. 

Felicity stayed silent, letting him figure out whatever, and waited for him to speak. He sighed again, brushing a tired hand over his face once, the sleep deprivation etched on every line of his face.

"A few days before your birthday," he began, looking down at the floor, talking in a quiet voice. "I got a phone call from someone I'd known a very long time ago."

Felicity's gut clenched, her hands gripping the cushion against her as she waited, the memory of how something had been bothering him around that time coming back to her. 

Oliver's voice broke her out of the memories. "She was frantic. Told me there was something I absolutely had to know and asked me to meet her. Alone."

Felicity swallowed, her throat dry. "Did you go?"

His eyes closed and he nodded. "I went alone. She'd been someone I'd trusted so I was worried at how paranoid she'd been. I went to the address and walked inside. There was blood, so much blood. She'd been tortured and killed. I walked out of there, to find a message on my phone from her from before hear death, saying : _'Save her. Give her life.'_."

Oliver looked up at her then, his blue eyes pained as she blinked. "Me?"

"I thought the same at first but..." he shook his head, his eyes drifting to the slight bump in her stomach. Her heart stuttered, shock weaving through her body. "How is that possible? We barely knew then. Only we knew... I mean... who was she?"

Oliver inhaled. "Raisa's niece."

Another shock wave rippled through her. She hadn't even known Raisa had a niece!

Guessing her thoughts correctly, Oliver shook his head. "No one knew about her. I did only because I'd worked with her once almost a decade ago. Raisa thinks she's dead."

"But she wasn't?"

He shook his head. Felicity swallowed, trying to wrap her head around it. "Okay, so Raisa had a badass niece in Bratva who you'd once worked with, who somehow knew I was pregnant and called you to tell you something about it, but then she was tortured and killed because of it?"

Oliver exhaled loudly. "Yes. I didn't tell you because I wanted to figure out whatever it was before worrying you."

Felicity nodded, understanding. "Then?" 

"I got people working, trying to find out who'd killed her and why, trying to figure out if it had anything to do with us."

"And?" she asked, on the edge of the couch, leaning forward.

"Then I found a note for me in the car. It was blank." Oliver shook his head. "I don't know why but I just knew I needed to get you away."

Understanding dawned upon her. "The cave house," she murmured as Oliver nodded. "I'd already bought it some time ago, and it seemed the perfect thing at the time."

"Did something happen that night?" Felicity asked, stunned.

Oliver nodded. "Someone tried to break in but escaped before Digg could catch him. The bastard was just scoping the place, seeing the weak spots. Later, when you told me someone had been following you, with everything else going on, I really didn't think it was connected until Raisa was attacked and set outside our door. That was when I realized someone was trying to get to you in a very planned way."

Understatement of the year. "And that phone call you got outside the hospital?"

His jaw clenched. "I'd been getting a few calls from that number, and Digg had found the guy it belonged to. Except it had been a trap to get us away from the house and leave you vulnerable. We fell for it."

"It was smart," Felicity swallowed, nodding. "At least now that the guy's found, it's over."

Oliver blinked up at her, his blue eyes confused, his brows furrowed. "What guy?"

"The guy behind all this."

At his still baffled expression, Felicity frowned. "This is not funny, Oliver."

"I'm not laughing, Felicity."

Her blood froze as she looked at the utter seriousness on his face. "I'm talking about the guy who'd abducted me. He told me he'd had some beef with you for ages and he'd been waiting for seven years to exact his revenge. I smacked him on the head with the chair in the room."

Her voice had gotten slightly frantic by the end, her heart pounding as realizations tried to crash over her but she held them at bay. 

Oliver got up from the chair slowly, closing the gap between them and sat down on his haunches, his face concerned, his eyes clear, his hands beside her hips on the couch. 

"That man inside the grey room?" Oliver asked quietly and she nodded. 

"Felicity, I've never seen that man before in my life."

Felicity stared at him, shock filling her again as her heartbeat picked up pace. She remembered the man who'd spouted so much hate for her husband, the way he'd talked about killing their baby. That had been genuine hatred. But she could see the honesty in Oliver's face, see the utter conviction in his eyes. 

She gulped, unable to understand. "But he wanted to kill our baby, Oliver," she said, her voice high, and saw his eyes harden. "No one is killing our baby."

Felicity melted slightly at the steel in his voice. "If you'd never seen the man, how could he have hated you so much? For 7 years? And who was he? What was that place?"

Oliver looked up at her, his gaze locked with her own. "I don't know who he was, Felicity. I swear to you. He'd taken you to a warehouse outside the city. But Digg found a comm attached on his ear. We believe someone else might have been controlling the interrogation."

Fear slithered down her spine. "Someone else?"

"I don't know yet. I'm trying to think of anything that happened seven years ago and I'm coming up blank," he said, his voice frustrated. 

Unable to resist any longer, Felicity brushed her hands over his shoulders, holding them tightly, and saw his muscles relax slightly. He got down on his knees, spreading her legs to accommodate his torso, and shoved her t-shirt up under her breasts, exposing her little bump to his gaze. He stared at it for a long time, his hands holding her hips as her own fingers brushed over his hair, and her heart pounded, seeing that utter tenderness in her lethal husband.

"Thea believes it's a boy," he spoke quietly, his eyes never moving from her tummy. "She said 'little guy' when I told her, and now everyone calls her that."

Heart fluttering at his words, Felicity felt warmth fill her senses. _"Her?"_

His eyes moved to hers, the blue in them shocking as his scent slowly wrapped itself around her. " _Her._ I just know it."

"Father's intuition?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

She saw the shadows dissipate slightly from his eyes at the word, but he shrugged. "I talked to her, you know. At night. I think she likes my voice."

The sudden lump in her throat made her eyes burn, such tenderness tugging at her heart it wasn't believable. "Of course she does."

They stayed silent for a long minute as memories assaulted her. "When I was eight, I sneaked out of my bedroom to the kitchen one night," Felicity began, her eyes on her fingers as they moved through the soft strands, knowing she had his attention. "I wasn't really supposed to be out but then no one would've scolded me. Anyways, I got to the kitchen as saw my father sitting there, all alone, in the dark."

Her eyes drifted back to his curious ones as he waited for her to complete the story. She smiled slightly. "Adult me would've left him alone with his thoughts. Little me couldn't, of course. So, i hopped on the chair beside his, and asked him if he wanted a slice of pie."

Oliver chuckled, his eyes brightening, and her heart lightened at seeing the soft smile on his face, seeing those lips twitch in that familiar way. 

"What did he do?" he asked, like he always did, never stopping her from remembering her father, always telling her to hold on to the happy memories.

She shrugged. "He smiled. And then we ate pie in the middle of the night, without uttering a word. It kind of became our thing after that. Mom never knew."

Oliver smiled and began to speak but she put a finger on his lips, her eyes locking on his, needing to tell him.

"I want that for you, Oliver," she spoke quietly, a soft smile on her own lips. "I want our baby to have secret moments with you. I want you both to have your secrets I'll never know about. I want her to always know how important those quiet, little moments with her father are. I want to glare at you both if I catch you eating pie in the middle of the night."

Oliver leaned forward, pressing his lips to her little bump before standing up. 

Felicity felt her smile disappear as he straightened, the thought that he was putting that distance between them floating through her mind. But before the thought could take root, he was sitting on the other side of the couch, and pulling her up on his lap solidly, his arm a band around her back, giving her all the support she needed. Her hands looped around his neck for support as she settled comfortably in his hold, his erection slowly hardening against her thigh, his one hand around her waist and the other in her hair, tilting her head back as his eyes locked with hers. 

"You make me feel like a better man than I am, солнышко," he murmured softly in the space between them. 

"Or maybe I make you feel exactly like the man you are," she retorted softly, gripping the back of his neck with her fingers, feeling his warm muscles press into hers. 

He gazed at her for long minutes, before his eyes hardened. "It's still not over, Felicity."

She stared back at him, the reality washing over her. "I know. What did you do for two weeks, Oliver?"

She felt his body tense under her, his eyes sharp. "I washed my hands with blood."

Felicity felt her heart ache at the tone of his voice, knowing the kind of hatred he got for himself. She brought a hand up to his, bringing it to her lips, and never moving her eyes from his, she kissed it. On the palm. On the fingers. Over the back. Every inch and ever vein. She kissed them all, never removing her eyes from his. She saw the turmoil churning inside him, saw the urge he had to take back his hand. She just held tighter, refusing to let him escape into his shell. 

"Anything else?" she asked after a few minutes, staring at him evenly. 

He shook his head, his hand coming to grip the back of her head under her hair again, the gesture possessive yet cradling, the heat in his eyes scorching her senses. 

She nodded. "Good".

And before he could reply, she leaned forward.

She felt the contours of his lips against her own, felt their lush softness, felt the familiar scruff rasp over her smooth skin. She closed her eyes, feeling his warm breaths fan against her cheek, hearing the heavy sound in it rumble straight from his chest. She felt his fingers flex over the beck of her head, tightening over her hair, angling her head slightly, the conditioned air in the room cool against her overheated skin, her own breathing getting heavier, and heavier, a strange dizzy warmth flushing all over her body.

She parted her lips over his, sweeping out her tongue slowly, swiping them over his lips once, tasting the familiar warmth, before taking a hold of his lower lips and sucking it, hard, into her mouth. His hips jerked slightly in reaction, a growl rumbling in his throat, his hands gripping her hips, brushing over her mound.

Pulling back slightly, she opened slightly dazed eyes to look down at his wet lips, his own eyes heavy, and felt her heart pound in her chest, the blood rushing everywhere in a hurry, pooling between her thighs and weighing in her breasts. God, she'd missed this. She'd missed this look, missed this rush, missed him. So, so much. And she could see how much he's missed her. So, they had a screwed up situation in their crazy lives. So, they had almost lost each other because of it. So, they had a ton of other stuff to figure out. But they had this. This, right here, the reason they kept fighting for. 

Felicity leaned forward again, gripping his face in her hands, swiping her thumbs over his jaw, feeling the scruff tickle her skin, and pressed their mouths together, opening his with her tongue. The moment she did, the fire in her system erupted, the heat engulfing her so completely she almost missed the way he picked her up and set her down so she straddled him, her core clenching as it came into contact with his hard, hard length. Their tongues brushed over each others, once, twice, thrice, before he angled her head and took over, all his pent up rage and frustration being poured down into the kiss as she moved over him, her hips flexing over his, giving her body free rein to find satisfaction, the angle sending a current of pleasure with every twitch of her hips, his cock nestled between her thighs. 

The room filled with their heavy breathing, occasionally broken my a loud gasp of pleasure, his scent and her own mingling in an aroma that seemed like an aphrodisiac, his heated muscles sending waves of heat through her own body as her breasts crushed against his chest, his hips thrusting in with her movements, their tongues tangling and untangling in an erotic dance they'd perfected yet never tired of, the raw, base tenor of the kiss never changing. 

He pulled back, littering kisses over her neck as she heaved in gulps of air, his teeth raking over her pulse point, making shivers arch her spine as she tilted her head back, offering more of her neck. 

He groaned. "Slow down, солнышко."

Felicity gasped as he sucked the flesh of her upper breast, belying his own words. "Stop talking, Oliver."

A growl escaped against her skin, sending her fevered skin to red-hot, her fingers clenching in his hair as her hips continued to move. 

His hands clamped on her hips, stopping her as he pulled back.

"Not now, Felicity," he said firmly, as firmly as could as she tried to grind on him. 

"Why?" she asked, her breathing heavy.

He just shook his head. "It's still in the middle of the day-"

"Where did your sense of adventure-"

"-and I promised your mother and Anatoli that you'd see them when you woke up."

Felicity sighed, slumping against him. "That was sneaky of you to use that against me."

Oliver moved her hips against his crudely once, his voice a low growl. "Trust me, Felicity, I want nothing more than to spread you under me and taste you like I've been craving for weeks. Then take you, over and over, till it's nothing but just the two of us. God help me, I'm walking a line I've never walked before and I'm trying to do the right thing. Don't tempt me."

Felicity bit her lips, seeing his eyes flare at the motion. He didn't say anything, just twisted and deposited her gently on the couch and stood up, the front of his cargo pants tented very, very obviously.

Felicity stared at it for a second before laughter bubbled up her throat for some reason. She saw him glare at her, his eyes narrowed, before he turned and walked towards the door. He opened it, just stopping to turn around for a moment, his eyes so heated they stopped the giggles in her throat.

"I've been starving for weeks, солнышко. _Remember that_."

With that, he walked out the door, leaving her a hot, jumbled, quivering mess.

Taking a deep, centering breath, Felicity looked out the window even as her heart calmed down, more questions assaulting her mind, knowing they still had to discuss a lot more. And that cooled her blood. The sheer magnitude of the kind of planning it took to have her abducted from the mansion while calling Oliver away on a false chase, and having someone else interrogate her, someone who had no connection to them at all, shook Felicity. That kind of evil, that kind of hatred, was _rare._  

She breathed in deeply even as fear knotted in her stomach. Oliver was right. 

It was _not_ over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
> So, what did you think? Please do let me know! :)
> 
> Also, if check out my other stories if you liked this. :)
> 
> Come say Hi to me on  
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> TWITTER : [@dorky06](http://twitter.com/Dorky06/)


	17. Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I'm so happy to see everyone so excited for the PhoenixFridays! (Although I'm very late into Friday). 
> 
> NOTE : This chapter is explicit. SMUT ALERT. You've been warned. I'm squealing already.
> 
> Stuff happens. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Don't forget to leave me your thoughts here. I love to hear from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

She needed him close. 

She needed sex.

Her body was burning up - both literally and figuratively. It was almost as though the heated kissing with Oliver during the day had thrown up a previously lowered switch. Hours had passed and this hunger, this mad raving _hunger_ inside her, had only festered and grown like a beast. Her skin tingled from the heat she could feel pulse through her entire body, each and every pulse throbbing ardently at the juncture of her thighs. Her breasts felt uncomfortable, heavier, each rasp of the cotton against her hard nipples sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her aching core, molten lava pooling low in her belly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so wet without Oliver doing something. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so empty, almost mindless, the need to be filled and taken so acute it almost hurt her. 

She was in heat. There was no other way she could describe it. Except she already a jelly bean heats usually resulted in. Was she in heat because of the baby? 

Honestly, she didn't even care. She just needed the torturing dinner to be over. 

Swallowing, she took an inconspicuous breath, the inhale making her breasts heave and her puckered nipples rub against the fabric, again. Barely containing a moan, she gripped her spoon with one hand almost painfully, the nails of her other hand digging into the overheated flesh of her thigh, sending a shocking jolt through her body. A shiver wracked over her almost violently before she controlled it, tying to ignore the buzz in her ears. 

In honor of her finally waking up and being mostly healthy, Thea and Raisa (who was fine now) had organized a small dinner with Anatoly and Donna. Dinner had been done almost an hour ago, and everyone was lingering on the dessert, talking and laughing jovially. Felicity had been too, until the fever had started taking over. Donna, as had been no surprise, had taken the news of Felicity's pregnancy and recovery with a level of zeal only she could accomplish while Anatoly's relief at her being well had almost been palpable in his hug. They'd told her of how Oliver had completely restricted access to her for everyone, and while they understood it, it did make them angry. Felicity understood that, but knowing how close Oliver had been to the edge, she didn't begrudge him anything he'd done to keep himself sane. Plus Donna adored Oliver way too much to hold on the anger for long.

As had been the case within minutes of sitting down for dinner. 

While Oliver had been polite and warm, the lingering ice from over the weeks had been evident in his silences. As had been his exhaustion. Only after her mother had almost squealed about being the most attractive grandmother ever, had the ice cracked slightly and the warmth and infiltrated his eyes. Till that point, her arousal had been nothing but bearable. 

And then Oliver had excused himself to make a few phone calls and left. 

And everything inside her had spiraled a few minutes after that. 

Now, knowing she couldn't even breathe without gasping, she knew she had to excuse herself and make her escape before it got completely out of control. God, she needed Oliver. She needed his coiled muscles bunched above her as he thrust into her, over and over again, like he did without stopping once, hard and fast and so quick she could feel every single hit all over her body. She needed to rub her breasts against his hard, solid chest. She needed to cling to those shoulders and _scream_ as he fucked her like a feral beast. God, she _needed..._

"Felicity, honey, are you okay?" her mother's voice broke into her sex-induced haze. "You look flushed."

She flushed harder, her walls clenching emptily on cold air, making her wetter than she'd ever been. She shook her head once to find her mother and Anatoly staring at her with concerned eyes and Thea looked on curiously. Her eyes darted over to where Digg and Roy talked over the other end of the room as she picked up her glass and gulped down cool water (Oliver had severely ordered everyone in the house to not even mistakenly bring any alcohol near her- only water and juice and milk). The cool liquid dowsed the flames temporarily, enough for her to focus for a minute. 

She cleared her throat. "I'm tired," she pulled out the easiest and ever-accepted card for pregnant women. Or at least from what she'd read and seen on TV. "I should go rest." Or not. She should be climbing her husband like a tree and having wild, crazy monkey sex with him, that's what she should be doing. 

"Of course!" her mother nodded, a smile on her lips. "Go on up."

"I'll see them out, don't worry," Thea chimed in, smiling as well.

Felicity nodded and taking a deep breath, stood up. Her thighs pressed together, the wetness between them hot, molten, heavily distracting. Exhaling once, knowing there was no way she could bear a hug from anyone at the moment, she crossed her arms over her aching breasts and managed to smile at her mother and Anatoly. 

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for staying for dinner."

Anatoly smiled up at her. "I'm just happy you both are well, princess."

Grinning at his nickname for her, she waved them and said her goodnights, and headed towards the doorway. Her body jolted with a shiver of pleasure with each step, the friction making her body hunger for more, so much more.  

Roy fell in step beside her as she reached the stairs in silence. She didn't break it, her mind too occupied on controlling the response of her body to every step and every breath. He didn't break it either, just escorting her to the bedroom in silence. It were moments like these that made her love Roy even more. 

She stopped at the top of the stairs, the corridor to her bedroom beckoning her with insane need, her dark bedroom door closed right at the end of it. 

Exhaling loudly, aware of Roy frowning at her but ignoring it, she headed towards the door with Roy behind her, her dress swirling around her thighs, the fabric caressing her skin, fanning the flames even higher. She wondered for a second if sneezing would make her orgasm, with the way she was going. It just might. Oh boy.

Almost as if her body recognized the implications of being close to the bedroom, everything she'd been trying to tame burst out free with each step closer. By the time she reached for the door knob, her hand was shaking as her body shivered, the conditioned air in the house cool against her overheated skin. 

"Goodnight, Roy," she muttered, passing him what she hoped resembled a smile.

He nodded. "Although Oliver will be with you but there's a personalized comm on your table in case something happens. 1 is Digg. 2 is me."

 

She would not be needing it tonight, not with what she had in mind. Nevertheless, nodding, she turned the knob and entered the bedroom, locking the door behind her. 

The moment she did, all her control, everything, snapped. 

Pulling the annoying dress that had driven her mad over her head, she flicked it aside and removed her bra, the sudden rush of blood inside and air outside her breasts making her gasp as her nipples pebbled even harder. Without turning, completely comfortable with her nudity in here, she pushed her panties down and stepped out of them, the damp spot on the light fabric, the evidence of her arousal, making her walls quiver in need. 

Her hair still twisted up, she pushed her feet out of the flats, feeling the soft rug under her toes, the sensation making her feel tingle. 

God, she was one little package of nothing but arousal. It was pathetic, really. Except it wasn't. Now that she was in their room. 

Taking a deep breath, wondering why he hadn't said anything yet, only his bedside lamp glowing, casting the room in a warm, mute light and cozy, comfortable shadows, Felicity turned towards their bed. 

And almost _cried._  

He lay on his stomach on the bed, his phone abandoned beside his head, his mouth slightly open, the lines on his handsome face relaxed.

He lay on the bed, sleeping, exhausted, while she stood there, naked, after days of sleeping. The irony didn't escape her. And even as crazy in heat as she was, she felt a slight smile curve her lips at the sight he made, fully dressed and so innocent in his oblivion. 

Felicity placed her hand on her little bump, patting it once. "Your father has lousy, lousy timing, baby bean."

Shaking her head as affection warred with arousal, Felicity silently stepped forward, then stopped. He looked deep in his sleep, and trying to get him comfortable might actually disturb that. Biting her lips, after watching his back rise and fall softly, Felicity changed directions and headed for the bathroom. Since he was indisposed, she'd have to take care of her heat herself. She sighed. Oh, she'd have preferred he hump her brains out, but he needed that sleep more than she needed her orgasm by him.

Decision made, she closed the door behind her quietly, and switched the lights to low, casting the same, warm mellow glow around their lavish bathroom, the dark brown tiles and granite sink top gleaming in the soft light, the dark granite ledge around the tub cool against her heated palm. She filled the tub quickly, knowing if she had to do this by herself, she'd take her sweet time and not rush it. Rushed orgasms were best served with Oliver. 

Cracking her neck, filling the water with bath salts he'd brought for them, Felicity stepped over the wide ledge and into the tub, her toes making contact with the warm water before her foot dipped in, followed by the rest of her body. She sank into the water, another gasp leaving her lips as the warmth tingled over her skin, teasing her between her legs, the water swirling around her heaving breasts. And she reveled in it, leaning her head back against the rim as the water rippled over her before slowly settling down. 

Everything was sensation. She was utter sensation.

Gripping the edges of the tub, eyes closed, she let herself drown in the sensations. The scent of the lime and something musky combined in a heady sensation, reaching her as she took a deep breath. The water lapped over her nipples, like slow, soft, smoother caresses of his hands, pooling between her thighs and teasing her aroused little nub with warm, warm currents she felt through her whole body. Her toes tingled, feet arching slightly as she let herself bask in the sensory pleasure, the sound of her own heavy breathing mingling with the occasional sound of water lapping at the edges of the tub, the only sounds in the huge bathroom. 

She let her hands move away from the tub and drift into the water, the buoyancy tickling her palms as she kept her eyes closed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she put her hands over her aching breasts, squeezing softly. A loud moan escaped her lips at the sudden amalgamation of relief and pleasure that shot through her, her nipples hard points against her palms and she rubbed them wantonly, her neck arching along with her spine, seeking that relief. His hands always held her breasts firmly, sometimes with tenderness, sometimes with utter possession. Her thoughts lingered on the possessive grip now - the way he squeezed her breasts in his large, rough hands, tugging at the nipples with strong, sure fingers. Her actions matched her thoughts, pulling on her nipples with the same intensity, and a current of pure electricity shot straight to her core, her walls clenching madly. 

Heart hammering as her breathing fastened, the sounds heavy in the room, her gasps and moans mixing together in a heady combination, she bit her lip, letting herself fantasize. 

He bit too. On the tops of her breasts, taking the flesh between his teeth and just nipping, enough to send fire licking into her belly, before flicking her nipple with his tongue. This way, then that. Her fingers moved in sync, playing with her sensitive breasts, her arousal a sharp ache in her core, her hunger gnawing in her belly. 

Leaving one breast, she slowly trailed her hand over her wet skin, feeling the raised stomach, their baby resting inside her, the baby he'd put there, Felicity let herself linger on the soft skin. Like he lingered, with his calloused fingers catching over her skin, with his scruff rasping over it, with his teeth nipping his way down, with his tongue tasting every inch of her. God, he lingered. So much he drove her mad, left her a writhing, quivering mass of arousal, biting her hipbones and over her thighs, coming to a stop as he spread her legs.

She spread her legs, the water lapping against her heat, rising like steam inside her blood.

Felicity dipped a hand down over her inner thighs as the other tugged on her breast. He loved the softer skin of her inner thighs. He loved nipping at it, seeing it flush. He loved licking it with small strokes of his tongue, teasing her like that for minutes. And with that heat in his eyes. So much heat. In his eyes. In her blood. Everywhere. 

She panted as she caressed the skin, so, so close to where she needed the relief but tormenting herself because that's how he drew it out, and he was there, right there, inside her head, tormenting her. 

Her mouth opened as she breathed heavily, and slowly, finally, she touched her folds, parting them. She could see in her mind the way he watched her as he did it, see his own heavy breaths as he exposed her to his eyes, see the blaze in those blues before he dipped and tasted her. 

Felicity moaned loudly, canting her hips up as her finger found her throbbing little nub, sending waves after waves of heat crashing through her body, her heart skittering and her pulse pounded in her ears, her body shaking, so, so sensitive she couldn't believe it. 

Biting her lips, she opened her eyes.

And locked eyes with his burning blue.

She froze, her chest heaving, her finger on her clit as the other hand rested on her breast, eyes on him. 

He sat there on the ledge, still dressed in his white shirt and trousers he'd donned for dinner, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms like usual, no signs of sleep on his face. No. He was awake. Very awake, and very alert. Coiled. Tensed. Taut. Watching her with those intense eyes, his own breathing heavy.

How long had he been watching her? How had she not heard him come in?

She didn't care.

His eyes traveled the length of her body under the water, resting on where her hands were, on her little bump, before coming back to clash with her own.

Her breath hitched, a new wave of arousal, sharper, starker, washing anew over her.

Licking her lips, never removing her eyes from his, Felicity dipped a finger inside herself, the sensation almost making her eyes flutter close. Almost. She couldn't remove her gaze from his even if she wanted to. She didn't. Because he watched her like she was the finest dessert and he was a man starved. 

He _was_ starved. 

Holy expletives. 

Another finger joined the first, pumping in and out of her, never reaching the depth he did, the skill his fingers did, the satisfaction. But he was there, and watching him watch her as she pleasured herself was heady. She would never have been able to do it a few years ago. Now, there was no cloud of hesitation anywhere. 

A moan left her as she pressed the heel of her hand hard into her nub and suddenly, Oliver leaned forward, one muscular arm over her to the opposite edge of the tub, caging her in the water. 

She tilted her head back, to keep their gazes locked, the woodsy, musky scent of his flesh wrapping around her as he leaned closer and closer and closer. 

And kissed her pulse. It fluttered. 

His scruff rasped over her skin as he kissed her neck, coming up to her jaw, biting and licking and suckling on her skin, the heat an inferno inside her body as her fingers worked over it. 

"You're a fever in my blood, солнышко," he muttered against her ear, the sound of his low, husky voice tipping her over the edge. Felicity turned her face into his shoulder, biting his hard muscle over the shirt as pleasure washed over her, her body trembling but hungering for more, more that she wasn't able to find no matter how hard she rubbed herself. 

"Oliver," she whispered against his skin, and suddenly his hand was right there, cupping her. Felicity watched his muscular forearm dipped under the water, the fabric of his shirt wet and transparent over his arm and panted. 

He swirled a finger around her opening, once, twice, teasing, tormenting her as she came down, before boldly pushing two fingers inside her. Felicity felt her walls clench around him as he pumped his fingers skillfully, over and over and over, building her right up, her body arching into his touch as her hands came out of the water, gripping the back of his neck, wetting his shirt even more as she pulled his face down.

Their mouths clashed together in a frenzy, his fingers increasing in speed as the heel of his hand pressed into her, his tongue spearing her lips in sync with his mad, mad fingers, making her heart thunder as the heat coiled at the base of her spine, coiling tighter and tighter and tighter and he kept stroking and moving and kissing and never stopping and she couldn't breathe as her breasts heaved and water lapped over the rim and he was surrounding her, inside her, moving in her, just as he always had and he always would and suddenly, he pushed his fingers in, curling them, and she shattered with a loud scream muffled against his mouth. 

He pulled back his lips as he pulled out his fingers, and Felicity opened her eyes, her body limp but not sated, watching him. His lips were wet, as was his torso, the front of his trousers tented with the evidence of his own need. 

Felicity blinked up at him as he stood up, his own fevered eyes on hers, and removed his wet shirt from his body, throwing it in a corner. She watched the play of muscles and scars over his flesh, his abs rippling with every heavy breath he took, as he undid his belt and removed his trousers, standing there in just his dark boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his erection. Felicity watched him with unabashed hunger, feeling that warm, low coil of arousal spring forth from core.

"I spoke to Dr. Nelson," he spoke quietly, his voice heavy with his own lust, as he walked to the corner and picked the towel up. 

Felicity stilled, before slowly taking a deep breath and standing up, stepping out of the tub and extending her hand to take it from him. "What did she say?"

Oliver stepped into her personal space, making her hands settle on his warm chest as he slowly toweled her dry, his eyes on hers. "She said it'd be normal for you with the hormonal changes to be very aroused."

Her breath hitched as he rubbed the soft towel over her breasts and he noticed. 

"She also said," he continued murmuring, "that sex was a good thing for now, as long as it doesn't put pressure on your stomach."

Felicity swallowed. "It's been so long."

He didn't say anything, just threw the towel on the pile of his clothes once she was dry, and picked her up in his arms. Her breath whooshed out as it always did, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him as he carried her to the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind them.

He put her gently on the bed, his eyes so, so hot her heart stopped for a second. 

"I don't think I can be gentle tonight, солнышко," he uttered through clenched teeth, his control on the verge of snapping. 

Her chest heaved. "Neither can I."

He watched her with those intense, intense eyes for a long moment, before his lips curved up slightly, in a way that made her breath catch. As much as she loved his soft side, she had to admit this part of him _thrilled_ her to her bones. And gave her a ladyboner. Every time. 

"Get on your knees," he commanded softly, and she did, their gazes never moving from the other, wondering what he would do now.

They had a lot of things they needed to do, lots of things they had to talk about, but for tonight, nothing else mattered. Just them. Right there. 

He walked around the bed to his own side, shoving the last piece of fabric down and baring himself to her famished eyes. 

"I don't think I'll ever get over seeing you naked," she muttered softly, watching his entire frame slide into bed beside where she kneeled.

"I don't think I'll ever get over seeing you here," he whispered back, something soft crossing his face for a second before it was replaced with the heat, making her heart clench. How this man said the softest things at the hottest of times, she would never know.  

"Close your eyes," he told her quietly and Felicity raised her eyebrows even as she complied, curious and wet.

She heard the sheets rustle as he settled in. The sound of their breathing was loud in the room as her heart raced, waiting to see what he would do, the scent of her own arousal and his musk mingling, her body throbbing for the satisfaction only he could give. 

She breathed in, waiting. 

"I'm growing old here, Oliver," she mumbled as nothing happened for a few moments. 

He didn't reply. 

But he touched her. 

His hands settled on her hips, picking her up by the waist and settling her higher up on the bed, her back against his chest, her legs on either side of his hips. It took her a second to catch on in her lust-induced state, but she understood. She was straddling him, only in reverse. 

His erection lay heavy against her ass, his hands keeping a hold of her waist as he lay back down, pulling her with him in a way so that she was almost lying on top of him. 

Felicity spread her legs slightly wider, her knees up and feet flat on the bed for leverage, her elbows digging into the bed beside him. She could feel his entire torso behind her like this, almost like a body kiss, feel his warm skin and hard flesh, feel each of his breaths in sync with hers. It was intimate.

And then he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing over her lobe.

"Open your eyes now."

Heart hammering, she slowly blinked open her eyes. 

And gasped.

 _The mirror._  

She could see them on the mirror.

She could see her own smaller naked body on top of his broader one, see her parted legs and her own flesh, see her breasts heave as she leaned her head over his shoulder, see his muscular thighs supporting them. 

She could see his big, tanned hands move up to cup her breasts, covering them completely, could feel the rough scrape of his palms over her nipples. The sensory overload made her whimper as he bit at the side of her neck, his voice a rough growl. 

"Are these sensitive?" he asked, squeezing her breasts once. 

Felicity gasped, her eyes locked with his on their reflections. "Yes."

His hands softened in their grip even as they continued their torment, her hips moving against his emptily.

"Oliver, please..." she moaned loudly. 

"Please what, Felicity?" he grit out right near her ear. 

"Just get inside me already," she sighed, arching into his hand. 

 

She heard his soft chuckle against her and watched in the mirror as he shifted his hips, one of his hands going down to line himself against her. Felicity saw his length hover right against her spread nether lips, saw him wait a beat, and the saw, even as fire spread throughout her body, as he slowly pushed into her. Her muscles tightened around him, clamping on him hungrily, her body hot and heated, feeling that familiar fullness she hadn't felt in such a long time, feeling him pulse as he moved inch after inch inside her, her hips tried to find that friction. 

It was crude as hell. It was carnal as hell. It was intimate as hell.

She wouldn't have had it any other way. 

"Lean on me," he ordered her harshly, his body still as he waited for her to comply. She did, letting her weight go from her elbows as she raised her arms to his neck, her chest tight. 

"Oliver..."

He kissed her neck once, his hands moving to her thighs and wrapping around them. Suddenly, he hiked her legs up towards her chest while still inside her, the movement making his growl as she whimpered in the bouts of pleasure shooting rapidly down her spine. He had pinned her to himself. Her eyes almost closed with it.

"Eyes open, Felicity."

Almost. 

Watching the mirror through half-lidded gaze, seeing the sexuality in her own body and seeing the fever in their eyes, a half-scream escaped her lips as Oliver, holding tightly to her legs, pulled out completely before suddenly thrusting in, _hard._

She simpered from the angle of his hit, from how far deep she could feel the force of that thrust, so hard her teeth clenched as fire, red hot fire spread through her body right from where they were joined. She watched him pull out again and hit back in, _harder, actually seeing_ the act making it even more carnal than it felt. He pulled out and suddenly, the rhythm came, quick, hard, fast, with each thrust and each breath and each flex of his hips, her muscles clenching and unclenching around him wildly as the noises left her in abandon, the ardent pace of his hips getting faster and faster and faster till he was almost a blur in the mirror, holding her in place as he fucked her like the animals in heat they both felt like, even as his hold on her remained one step short of tender. 

She could feel every inch of him scrape and pump into her walls, feel every inch of hot flesh at her back, feel every inch of rough hands wrapped over her thighs keeping them aloft. He was keeping her up with just his strength, and she could feel every single movement she saw in their mirror, their eyes reflecting their deep, deep need for the other, his teeth nipping at her neck, his hips moving at almost a mechanical pace she'd seen him achieve during exercising. She felt the sweat over his chest against her back, his own heartbeat against her pounding one. She felt it all. She saw it all. She heard it all. 

And suddenly, the coil on heat in her belly stretched tauter and tauter and tauter till she was sure she couldn't survive it, sure she would fall apart and nothing would bring her back, sure there was nothing but him holding her from exploding out from herself. It grew tauter and tauter and tauter and his hips never stopped and her eyes never closed and suddenly, she was there, right there, on the precipice, ready to fall, as she felt him pulse like a live wire inside her. 

"Oliver..." she cried loudly, her hands scattering to find some purchase and unable to find any, settling down on his forearms as she gripped them, her eyes closing as the heat build up to a crescendo, their image burned inside her head as he snapped his hips up into her, over and over and over again. 

"You are mine, Felicity," she heard him utter as he pumped his hips like a feral beast, once, twice, and stopped completely, growling against her ear. "Nobody gets to take you from me. _No one. Mine._ " 

He stilled, and she fell over the edge, the sudden stillness making white spots erupt behind her eyelids as her mouth opened in a silent scream, her entire body trembling as her spine curved and hips quivered against his, her walls shaking around him as she felt him come inside her, the warm wetness triggering her long, long awaited explosion with such intensity it made her head dig back into him and teeth ache, her entire body just one hot mass of sheer ecstasy, her orgasm brutal in its ferocity. 

They stayed there, just like that, for long, long moments before she felt him pull out of her. A tired moan escaped her throat as he pulled away, straightening her numb legs as blood rushed through them in pinpricks. His hand moved to between her legs with tissues from the bedside table, cleaning her up, taking care of her, before he turned her languid body to her side on the bed, turning her to face him. 

Felicity blinked open her eyes, to see his handsome face looking down at her, his hand brushing her hair away from her cheek. 

"I think you just fried my brain," she muttered, still slightly dazed. 

His lips twitched, his hands tracing her spine like he loved. "It was more powerful than usual, wasn't it?"

She nodded. His eyes, those intense eyes, locked on hers as his hands curved around her little bump. He pecked her lips, before pulling her into his body.

"солнышко."

Her heart clenched at his softly muttered word even as she melted, and she settled into him, placing her head on his chest. "I missed you too."

There was silence for a beat, before his soft whispered voice spoke. "I can't lose you, Felicity. I almost tasted it once, lived that life for two weeks, and..." he paused. _"I can't lose you."_

She looked up at him, seeing the deep, deep vulnerability in those blue eyes, and her heart ached for the days he'd lived without her. She pulled him into her arms, holding him close, and keeping quiet, because as much as every single part of her wanted to promise him he wouldn't, she couldn't. Not as long as there was a madman out there.

Which is why she held him close, knowing he knew why she hadn't promised, knowing how it ate him alive to know.

She held him close, because he'd tasted insanity and she'd tasted death, and they had both come back from the edge. 

She held him close. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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	18. Crescendo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I'm so sorry PhoenixFriday got so late. I had the chapter done yesterday but my internet went boinkey. But here it is! (Although I'm very late into Friday). And thank you so much for the awesome response to the last chapter. You are the bestestest ever! 
> 
> Also, The Firebird will be coming today too. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Don't forget to leave me your thoughts. I love hearing from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

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* * *

 

Two weeks. 

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since she'd recovered. Two weeks of being loved by her husband. Two weeks of being fussed over by everyone.

In the two weeks, Oliver had gone completely into what Felicity called his "growly bear" mode. He growled at anyone and everyone, except immediate family, who dared to even look at her stomach, his body tensing and hackles rising. And while it annoyed Felicity to no end, she understood. And honestly, after everything that had happened, she didn't want to complain. She'd become skittish too whenever anyone looked at her too long. Her hand had started curving over her growing bump protectively, her eyes more aware of her surroundings, her body ready for a fight at a moment's notice. Roy called it her "mama bear" mode with fond amusement.   

But it seemed necessary. 

Because the two weeks had also been of silence.

She didn't know if it was the calm before the storm, didn't know if it was the silence of everything being over. She didn't know. And neither did Oliver. 

And that knowledge about the lack of their knowledge hung like the shadow of a cloud over their happy lives, a cloud they couldn't see but whose shadow clung to the back of their minds, every single day. And it was clouding their happy memories. 

Felicity could not forget the way the man in the warehouse had told her how he'd waited seven years to execute this madness. Seven years. And he'd been just a mouthpiece for someone else. Someone hiding in the shadows. Someone playing a master game Felicity didn't even know the rules of. And putting that all into context was what terrified her. For someone who'd waited seven years, who'd infiltrated their high security house so many times, who'd come so close to destroying everything, two weeks was but a blink. But was that a restful blink or the blink of a dragon before it breathed fire? Would that fire burn them this time or would they escape again, intact? 

The questions never left her mind, and over the two weeks of having them hang over their heads, Felicity had grown furious and exhausted. She was tired of being on the defensive. Tired of being ready to run. And she knew Oliver was as well. His frustration, in fact, was a hundred fold greater than hers because of who he was. Her safety, and the protection of their baby, in his eyes was his duty and his need. And she knew that despite nodding when she told him it wasn't his fault, it was eating him alive - the fact that whoever was after them was after them because of his past, the fact that he couldn't even find the reason for all of it, the fact that he couldn't find anyone behind this and eliminate them. It was all eating him up from the inside, and everyday Felicity saw him grow tenser and tenser, only relaxing when she wrapped her arms around him and told him they'd be okay. 

Oliver was scared. And that scared her more than anything. Because nothing outside of her scared Oliver. 

And it wasn't just him. The entire household had felt the shift. Digg was worried to his bone but holding strong. Roy was terrified but keeping his jaw clenched and being by her side. She'd seen Oliver relax slightly when he saw the two around her, talking to her, making her laugh. Oliver smiled, but the shadows never really left his eyes. 

And the clock just ticked.

* * *

 

Felicity stood in front of the bathroom mirror sideways, barefoot and pregnant, and pulled up the hem of Oliver's t-shirt over her abdomen.

The bump had grown faster in the past two weeks than it had during the entire course before that. A little more and she wouldn't be able to see her feet. As it was, she felt like a blown up water ball sometimes. Her balance, which had been precarious even on good days, had tipped over even more and not on the good side. Walking, now, required concentration. She couldn't afford to fall now, not with her pregnancy being delicate. Dr. Nelson had told her repeatedly to be very, very careful with everything - her diet, the amount of sex she had, the amount of exercise she did. Everything. Oliver would have wrapped her into cotton wool and set her on their bed for a whole of coming months if he'd had his way. 

And though she knew he was relieved they could have sex, she knew he would have abstained with more control than her for months on end if that was what had been needed. As it was, after that first night of rough and hard reunion of sorts, he'd become careful when they made love. Very careful, of the smallest things. He was careful to never put pressure on her bump, careful to put lots of pillows under her to cushion her, careful of loving every single inch of her till she was a writhing mass of arousal on the bed. He'd become careful of the positions they had sex in, careful not to bend her much, careful not to slip his control until the very end. 

And Felicity loved him for each and every one of those things, each and every way he showed her his love, his consideration, his affection. Each and every way he showed her what a beautiful father he already was. 

Felicity looked at the bump that extended from her belly, her skin stretched over their baby, and pat it with her hands, her eyes moving up to her sensitive breasts and back down to the bump.

Oliver had really taken to talking to their baby every night, adamant it was a girl. And though Felicity's heart melted every time he whispered words against her skin, her stomach fluttering, she had a feeling the baby was a he. She'd told Oliver one night and he'd narrowed his eyes at her, before waving it away in a way she'd found amusing. 

_"She,"_ he'd said. "All of you can gang up on me and call him little guy, but she's _my girl."_

"I thought I was your girl," Felicity had teased him as he'd kissed her belly, her heart bursting with the love for him. 

He'd locked eyes with her, that smile of his, the smile that had only ever been for her on his face. "You, солнышко, are simply mine. _My_ woman. _My_ wife. _My_ love. I can add a hundred words but only one is important. _Mine._ "

And then she'd kissed the lights out of him. 

Felicity smiled, the memory washing over her as she rubbed her hands over her belly. 

"You, little baby bean," she spoke out loud, talking to the baby like she'd taken to doing, realizing that somehow connected her more to their miracle. "You are growing way too fast for me to fit into anything but your daddy's shirts anymore. I need to go shopping with Aunt Thea or I'd be walking around the house being a cliche. Barefoot and pregnant. Not that I'm complaining. I'm so happy to see you growing, so healthy and strong. Dr. Nelson tells me you're going to be a strong baby. Of course you are. Have you seen your father? Have you met me? We're a tough bunch."

She took a deep breath, her pajama bottoms stretched around her waist to their full capacity. "Things are a little shaky outside right now. But you don't have to worry. No matter what happens, you just hang on to mama and we'll keep you safe. Just hang on to me, okay? Just hold onto whatever you can find inside and stay with me. Your daddy and I will take care of you."

Smiling, feeling better at getting that out, Felicity put her hands on the hem, ready to pull down, when she felt him. 

Turning her neck, she saw him leaning against the open doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest, his navy blue shirt stretched taut and forearms muscled, his body relaxed, his strong neck above the open collar of his shirt deliciously littered with scruff, his lips curled in that small smile of his, a small dimple teasing around his cheek. His blue, blue eyes looked magnificent against the color of the shirt, their sole focus on her, that spearing intensity shaking everything inside her even after years of being subjected to it.

Felicity raised her eyebrows. "Eavesdropping much?" 

His smile widened. "Since I head good things about myself, I'm not sure."

Felicity chuckled, rolling her eyes, and looked down at her exposed belly. "He's growing so fast."

_"She,"_ Oliver spoke, the emphasis in his voice hard to miss, "is taking after me it seems." His tone was entirely too pleased with himself.

_"He,"_ Felicity matched his tone, "seems to be taking after your giant genes."

"She won't be a giant. She'll be beautiful and breath-taking."

Felicity bit her lips to keep from laughing at the adamant tone. "You do realize that by that logic she's going to attract a lot of boys."

Oliver's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. He stayed quiet. 

Her jaw dropped. "Oh my god, don't tell me you're telling yourself she'll remain 10 for the rest of her life in your head."

Silence. 

Felicity burst out laughing, closing the gap between them, the sound high and shaking her entire frame. Gripping the sides of his face, she went on her toes, his big hands automatically supporting her back, and pecked him on the lips. 

"You're adorable," she told him, laughing at the affronted look on his face. 

He growled slightly but suddenly turned serious. "You're going out?"

Felicity felt herself sober but remained smiling, brushing his hair with her fingers as his own rubbed over the base of her spine in soothing motions. 

"Since I'm not going to fit into anything I own very soon, I need clothes," she told him. "And Thea will be my partner in crime."

Oliver nodded. "Okay. When do you leave?"

"In an hour, I think."

"Take Digg and Roy with you."

Felicity raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth but he squeezed her waist once, quieting her down. 

"Both you and Speedy are going out, and it'll be a lot of pressure for Roy to manage you both. Plus I'll rest easier knowing Digg is there with you."

Felicity sighed, knowing it was logical. "What about you?"

Oliver's lips twitched. "You think I can't take care of myself?"

She punched his chest, eyes narrowed. "Don't be cocky."

Oliver shook his head. "I'm not, солнышко. Digg and I have an understanding. He's not my bodyguard. He's my partner. Out in the field, he has my back. I don't need a bodyguard."

"That's all okay, Oliver, but I'm not taking Digg with me if you don't have back-up. Not now."

Oliver sighed. "Fine. I'll take Nik. Happy?"

She nodded, pulling back. "Now let me get ready." 

Oliver's hand tightened on her back, keeping her in place as the other gripped her chin, tilting her face up as he slanted his mouth over hers. Everything inside Felicity sighed happily even as her body came to life, her toes curling on the tiled floor as her mouth opened, his tongue licking into her mouth softly, the scruff around his mouth rubbing against her soft skin, the calloused tips of his fingers rasping deliciously over her smooth flesh. Felicity pulled his neck down even as she arched closer, her breasts rubbing against his chest, the friction sending electricity through her body, currents sizzling down her spine. Their tongues brushed, moved, danced with the knowledge of their partner's, tangled erotically as their bodies pressed together. They stood there, kissing and breathing each other in, his woodsy scent all around her, making her feel safe and cherished and loved even as it ignited her blood, his thumb stroking the base of her spine in a small movement that made her shiver in his arms. 

Their lips parted after long, long seconds, breathing loud and chests heaving. Her lips felt swollen, wet, the skin around her mouth burning from his scruff in a way she loved, his muscles coiled under her palms, her own hormones wreaking havoc over her body, arousal flushing her, peaking her nipples and making fire pool in her belly. 

"Was that a bribe to get me home early?" she murmured, her eyes closed, his lips an inch from hers. 

He kissed her again, thoroughly, before pulling back. "Is it working?" he growled against her lips.

"Oh yeah," Felicity nodded, holding him tight. 

"Good," he growled before taking a deep breath and stepping away. Felicity opened her eyes, and locked gazes with his aroused, intense ones. After a long moment, her heart pounding, his gaze flickered to her bump. 

"Bring something for her too," he said in a rough voice. 

Felicity chuckled. "Him."

He shook his head, a smile on his lips, and walked off. Felicity shook her head, a smile on her lips, and turned to the shower. 

It was going to be a stubborn few months.

* * *

 

No one was letting her carry a single bag except her own. 

She'd argued that she wasn't invalid. She'd argued that they were just shopping bags. She'd argued that Roy and Digg needed their hands free, just in case. 

All arguments had fallen on deaf ears much to her annoyance. 

Roy had even told her cheekily to "watch her feet". Bummer. 

But as it was, it was almost dusk and she was at the mall, walking arm in arm with Thea, while Roy and Digg walked behind them, by deliberate choice, holding shopping bags and looking harmless. Well, Roy at least. Digg couldn't look harmless, hulk that he was. But Felicity knew how alert they both were. She also knew that Oliver had called Digg once to check in, and that she was not supposed to know, but she knew because she was Felicity Smoak-Queen and she knew Oliver Queen. There was no way he wouldn't have called. 

And she'd expected him to call more than once. She knew he'd have called more than once. Except he hadn't. And there was a bad, bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, the kind that hadn't seeped in for weeks. 

She'd checked her phone multiple times, getting more and more worried when there had not even been a text from him. Of course he could've been busy. But... 

The group exited into the parking lot, and headed towards the two cars they'd come in, parked side by side, two giant SUVs that looked very, very intimidating. Thankfully, the entire shopping trip had been unadventurous. Thea and Felicity had just gone into the stores while Digg had remained outside keeping watch and Roy had accompanied them inside, both men connected by comms the entire time. A few people had stared at her bump on the way, and Thea, sweet, sassy Thea, had glared at them and stepped protectively in front of her, her claws out. It had surprised her even as it had made her adore the girl even more. 

They'd shopped and walked and laughed, and it had only been a few hours, but Felicity could feel her feet and back start to hurt, tiredness creeping over her. This was the only part of the pregnancy she didn't like - how tired she got how quickly. Her feet throbbed with every step, her back muscles knotting from being straight and the pressure of her bump for so long. All she wanted to do was go home and sink in the tub, hot water and everything, and sleep for days. 

"Roy, take Thea," Digg's solid voice broke her out of her thoughts and back to the present. 

Felicity saw Roy nod and get into the vehicle in the front, with all the shopping bags. He smiled at Felicity before nodding to Digg, a silent message being passed between them. 

Digg opened the passenger door for her and big as the vehicle was, and limited as she was in her movements, he picked her up and deposited her on the seat gently, before shutting the door and coming over to the driver's side. Felicity buckled herself in, careful to keep the strap away from the bump, curving her hands over it as Digg locked the car, put his gun on the console, and turned on the ignition. 

Felicity stayed silent as he pulled out, knowing he was keeping a watch on the area, checking to see if they were being tailed, and she didn't want to distract him. She looked out the window, seeing the light traffic but unable to see Roy's vehicle anywhere. 

"We're clear," Digg spoke into the comm, waiting a beat before adding. "Take the other route."

Felicity's heart picked up. Were they being followed? 

Digg drove under the speed limit, before speaking again. "False alarm? Okay. Good. Stick to the plan. Good." 

He muted the comm and glanced towards her. "Ask Felicity."

"What?" Felicity blinked.

"Whatever's been going on in that head of yours all day."

She should have known Digg would know. Digg always knew. She sighed, slumping into the seat, trying to find a good angle for her aching back. 

"When did Oliver call to check in?" she asked, feeling the worry gnaw at her.

Digg spared her another look before focusing on the road, driving in the lane. "Two hours ago."

Felicity bit her lip. "It's not like him to not check up..."

"He told me he wouldn't be able to call," Digg interrupted. 

Before she could utter another word, Digg swore under his breath and hit the accelerator. "Hang tight, Felicity." 

Heart hammering, Felicity gripped the bar on the door and spread her other hand on her belly, turning her neck to look behind them. Another SUV, but smaller, was on their tail. But it wasn't that which made the breath lock in her throat. No. It was the SUV behind that one, tailing that car, which send a frisson of adrenaline down her body.

It was Oliver's SUV.

He was tailing the car tailing them.

Holy expletives. 

"Digg?" Felicity asked, not even knowing what she was asking.

Digg didn't move his eyes from the road, taking a left towards the abandoned area on the outskirts of the city, the roads completely empty now except for the three vehicles.

"Oliver knew someone would've been watching you the moment you got out of the house," Digg told her in a calm voice, belying absolutely nothing but anger. "So, he laid the trap this time. He knew whoever it was would follow us. He'd been waiting outside, keeping watch."

Felicity grit her teeth. "Why didn't he tell me?"

Digg scoffed. "Ask him."

She so would. As soon as whatever was going down went down. This could get ugly really, really fast.

"Hang tight, Felicity," Digg gave her a split second warning before suddenly braking the vehicle and spinning the car sideways in a crazy stunt she'd seen people do in movies. Nausea roiled in her stomach from the sudden motion and she swallowed the bile down, clenching her eyes shut and focusing on keeping her breaths even, her hand patting her stomach. She wanted to throw up. She really, really wanted to throw up like she did some mornings. But she couldn't. Not when Digg was in the middle of stunt of the year. Something told her puking was not going to be very appreciated at the moment. 

Finally, finally, the car stopped spinning and the world stilled, her stomach settling even as her heart thundered, sweat breaking out over her skin as she opened her eyes and looked around. 

They were in the middle of the road, standing horizontally across it, the driver's side facing the oncoming car. Felicity swallowed, her eyes widening as she saw the SUV hurtling towards them, woods on either side of the road, no other place for the car to go. They'd trapped it, unless it mauled over them. 

"Digg," Felicity said, her volume rising as her voice shook, her chest heaving. 

"Don't get out of the car, Felicity," Digg ordered her sternly. "No matter what, don't get out of the car."

He looked at her once, waiting for her agreement. Shaken, she nodded, and saw him open the door and get out before immediately locking the door again. Felicity saw Digg's wide, tall body standing in front of the window, giving her just a partial view of the SUV coming towards them and Oliver's behind it, and Felicity leaned forward, on the edge of her seat, unable to blink lest something happen.

She saw Digg take out his gun, saw him aim and his stance widen, saw him shoot at the vehicle. The only reason she didn't flinch at the sound was because she had been prepared for it, because she'd seen him take the shot. The loud noise rang all around her, even inside the windows, shrill and piercing. 

The evil SUV suddenly spun as Digg hit the front tires, spinning and spinning before screeching to a stop, the noise making Felicity grit her teeth, like nails on a chalkboard, the metal dragging on the concrete as the sun set in the sky, streaking it purple and blazing orange. 

The sky was on fire.

Her eyes glued onto the scene before her, her heart stopped as the last SUV rolled to a stop and Oliver jumped out from the driver's side, his body lithe, graceful. Lethal. 

Heart in her throat, she saw him stalk towards the other vehicle, not a single weapon in his hands as Digg kept his gun trained on the scene, her husband's steps more like a prowl, his entire body tensed, coiled, waiting to be sprung into action, the shirt and trousers he was wearing not daring to hinder a single movement but rather amplifying it. 

Two men got out of the back of the SUV, their guns raised, one pointed at Oliver and the other at Digg. Digg shot one on his shoulder before the man was even out. Oliver, on the other hand, gripped the wrist of the other man, the wrist holding the gun, and snapped it hard without moving at all. The man screamed in pain and collapsed on to his knees, the gun useless beside him as he held his broken hand to his chest, Oliver towering over him in the middle of the road, barely breathing heavily.

He never looked up at her, even though she knew that he knew that she was watching. 

Felicity swallowed, her heart pounding so hard she feared it would break out of her chest, all her body aches long forgotten, her hands trembling on her stomach as she held it. 

And then the driver's door of the evil SUV opened. 

Her heart stopped. 

It was the same man. The man who'd broken into her father's house and left Anatoly the message about her pregnancy, the same man who'd followed her and clicked her pictures weeks ago, the same man who'd been at the club on her birthday, watching her from the corner, smiling. 

It was the same man.

He jumped out of the vehicle in offense, coming right at Oliver. 

Felicity gripped her bump as she saw Oliver duck the hit and stand, his hand coming to the side of the man's head, and he smashed it down against the hood of the car, the metal denting from the force of the hit. 

The man went to his knees from the hit, shaking his head to clear it, his back to Felicity as Oliver stood at his front. 

It was the same man.

She didn't feel sorry for him, even as she knew things would not be not painful for him. 

She didn't feel sorry. But she felt satisfied.

Because this was the same man.

And her husband knew it. 

And her husband had him.

And that, in itself, was enough to satisfy her. For now.

She leaned back in her seat and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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	19. Explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I'm so happy to see everyone so excited for the PhoenixFridays! (Although I'm very late into Friday). Thank you so much for the tremendous response to this story. Y'all are slaying me with the love! Thank you!
> 
> NOTE : This chapter is explicit. I'm squealing already.
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. Hope you enjoy it!
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> Happy reading!!!

He was in trouble. 

Big trouble. 

Felicity stood at the French doors in his study that opened into the lawn, seeing the entire area bathed in moonlight, barely able to make the silhouettes of the men she knew were patrolling the property. Roy stood outside the study, keeping watch, on high alert while she stayed inside, fuming. 

He had lied to her. By omission and to her face. 

Once the adrenaline had died down, once the unconscious man had been hauled into the other SUV, bound and gagged and unarmed, once Felicity had relaxed her heart into its regular rhythm while Digg had gotten into the car, once her eyes had locked with her husband's for a brief moment right before he'd gotten into the other vehicle, realizations has taken hold. She'd been kept in the dark about his plan, his entire plan. He'd tailed them to the mall, used her as bait, and trapped the fish. And though she knew he would never put her in harm's way, one thought led to another, the past rearing its ugly head for a split second, the times he'd kept information from her making her wonder what all he was keeping. Could it be? Could it be possible in some overwhelming sense of trying to protect her, he was keeping truths from her? Just like he had when he'd gone to Ilyich to trap him, to keep her safe?

The thoughts ran through her mind in a myriad, unstoppable, getting deeper and deeper and working her up more and more as she stood there, her eyes on the stretch of land she called home, that had been home for years.

Her hand rested on her belly, her eyes drifting to the clock in the room.

10.40 PM.

It had been hours since they'd returned, since Digg had told her to go upstairs and stay in the room while they'd taken the man to the basement. And though she didn't relish what she knew must be happening, she didn't feel one bit sorry for the man. He had stalked her, harassed her, kidnapped her, threatened her and tried to kill her baby. Her blood boiled just thinking of the man a few feet under her, the urge to go down and break his nose extreme. Her hands fisted by her sides and she exhaled deeply, trying to calm down. Because Oliver was there. With the man. From his reputation, she knew he was cold while dealing with issues. But this was personal, very personal for him. The man would be begging for death by the time her husband was done. 

Her eyes strayed to the lawns again, a deep ache taking a hold of her heart. A few years ago, this would have shocked her, the brutality the man she loved was capable of. To her, he had always been a man who burned with a fire that consumed her, the man capable of such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes. Her mother's words came back to her. 

_'He does it to keep that brutality from touching you by taking it himself. Keep him grounded and keep him to you. Because in that moment, you are the only thing stopping him from spiraling in that hole he just escaped from. The only way to keep from sinking in that hole is by being together.'_

He went in that hole every time, and every time, she saw the toll it took on him. He was the best he could be in their world, without being a monster. 

Except when it came to his family. 

And that was the exact reason she wasn't in the bedroom where she was supposed to be. Because she may have been raging mad, but she was worried. About him. About how far he would succumb into the hole, especially now. He'd been close, so close to shutting off while she'd been sleeping, and this soon after that... she couldn't risk it, couldn't risk him losing himself. 

The sound of the door opening broke through her thoughts and made her turn, to see her husband walk inside, his body stiff, muscles clenched in fury, eyes cold.

Their gazes locked.

She'd never seen his eyes so, so icy blue. A shiver went through her spine even though she knew he would never hurt her. But in that moment, gazing into his eyes, she could understand that reputation of his, understand why he didn't have to kill people until it went extreme. His eyes, to strangers, were terrifying. 

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching. 

Felicity swallowed, her anger taking a backseat in face of the worry that gnawed at her. She wanted to remove her eyes and check his body for any injuries, wanted to take his hands in her and see his knuckles, wanted to take him in his arms and let him breathe. 

She couldn't move. Not a muscle, not her eyes, not her breaths. 

She'd never understood this hypnotism of his, never understood that magnetism even before she'd loved him. 

And yet, even after years, she could feel that pull in every single inch of her body, feel that hypnotic air around herself. 

He broke their gaze, turning towards his desk, and she took in the deep breath she'd been holding without realizing, felt the cool, crisp night air burn it's way through her lungs. 

"Go upstairs."

Oliver's rough, hard voice broke through her daze, making her blink in sharp clarity. He was standing beside his desk, in a black t-shirt and jeans, his profile half in shadow and half in the muted lights of the study, every muscle in his body still. Good lord, how bad had it been? 

"Oliver?" Felicity asked softly, taking a hesitant step forward. 

The moment she did, he took one back, his eyes on the curtains beside her, before falling to the ground, his fists clenching. 

"Don't come near me right now," he spoke quietly, too quietly, his voice still like his body, on the verge of a motion she knew he would never make against her. Her previous anger was pushed to the back of her mind, her entire focus on her husband, on bringing him back from whatever edge he stood on. Because no amount of anger was greater than her love for him.

"I was waiting for you," she told him gently, keeping her eyes alert on him, her heart pounding as he stood there, just breathing, not meeting her eyes.

He didn't utter a word.

She took another step forward.

"Go. Upstairs."

She stood her ground, not budging. Usually, he wouldn't have either. Usually, he would have stood right at the spot and they would have clashed before calming down enough to talk. Usually.

But he didn't stay at the spot, just turned towards the door and started striding, without a word. 

Felicity felt the surprise wash over her as she watched his retreating back, felt the worry climb as the door shut behind him, leaving her alone in the room again. 

Had she not been absolutely certain of the intensity of his love, she would have been hurt by his actions. But she knew the madness of it, knew the man. And that's why she knew it wasn't about her. It was about him. Something about him, in that moment, that was making him run, something that he had never, ever done before. She had been to run and he had been the one to catch her, always.

Something unusual had happened.  

And she wasn't going to let him go through it alone, not as long as there was a breath in her body. 

Steeling her spine with determination, the ache from earlier forgotten, she headed towards the door with steady, careful steps, and opened it, to see Roy on the other side, talking with Thea. Thea looked up the moment the door opened, her eyes wide with concern. 

"I just ran into Ollie," she said, pointing towards the end of the corridor. "I've never seen... what happened?" 

Felicity managed a smile for the girl and squeezed her arm in reassurance. "I don't know but don't worry about it. Where did he go?" 

"He was heading to your room."

Felicity nodded and just as Roy was about to escort her up, she spotted Digg at the base of the stairs, talking to some security guy. 

"Stay with Thea," she told Roy quietly. "I have to talk to Digg."

Roy searched her eyes for a second before dropping back, and she walked towards where Digg stood, his face somber, his usually warm eyes heavy. What the hell had happened?

The guy with Digg left as she got closer, and he turned towards her, heaving a sigh. 

"Want to tell me what happened down there?" she demanded, her nerves on edge, her fingers trembling from the anxiety. 

Digg shook his head. "It got ugly, Felicity. Uglier than I've seen in a long time."

She swallowed. She'd figured that much out. "Tell me."

Digg looked at her for a beat, before nodding. "Oliver wanted to interrogate the guy himself. The man kept pushing him. Said a lot of stuff about you and the baby. He lost his cool. It got... ugly."

She gulped again, her chest tight. "Did the man tell anything."

"Yes."

She waited. Digg shook his head. "Not my place to tell, Felicity."

She bit her lip, her hand rubbing her bump in a soothing motion. "Is the man alive?"

Digg shook his head, his eyes sad. 

Felicity nodded and hugged him lightly. He wrapped his huge arms around her in that warm, warm embrace of his. "Don't leave him alone right now, Felicity," he whispered into her head. 

"I have no intention to," she told him, before stepping away and bidding him a good night. 

And then, taking a deep breath, she began to climb the stairs to her bedroom, their bedroom, her heart thundering with each step in her chest, her pulse spiking, unsure of what to do. Usually, when Oliver came home on bad days, he just held her, took her in his arms and breathed her in. That's something he's always taken as was his right because she'd always given it to him. He'd never pushed. And she had no idea what to do.

Shaking her head, she berated herself for having doubts. She'd do what she had always done. Get him out of the hole. Usually, he climbed out himself. This time she'd have to pull him out.  

Stopping before her bedroom door, inhaling again, she opened it and stepped inside, locking it behind her, and turned to the room. 

He was nowhere to be seen. 

But she saw his clothes on the floor, laid in a trail to the bathroom door, the sound of the shower running loud in the silence of the bedroom. 

Felicity bit her lip, indecision weighing at her. A part of her wanted to reach out to him immediately. The other thought of giving him some time. And she stood rooted at the spot, lingering. 

And then she shook herself. 

He needed her. 

She wasn't going to leave him alone. Not now. 

Straightening her back, she walked towards the bathroom door, removing her loose pants and glasses on the way, dressed just in her top and panties, and turned the knob. 

It was unlocked. 

Sighing a breath of relief, she tiptoed into the bathroom, shutting the door just as silently behind her and turned around. 

The bathroom was dark. No lights were on, and only a pale beam of moonlight from a high window illuminated the room. Felicity could see the steam from the shower stall roll out everywhere, fogging the mirror and latching onto her skin, condensing, and rolling down. But her attention wasn't on them. Or on the light. Or on her own body. No. It was on the man with his arms against the wall, his head bent down in a kind of defeat that made her heart hurt, the muscles in his back tensed to the point of locking under his scars, the hot water hitting his body without ever warming him. Felicity stood, watching him, her heart clenching at the pain she could feel inside him, waiting to be let out, the pain he was bottling up, the self-loathing he was feeling and trying not to feel, the conflict between guilt of killing a man painfully and the vengeance he had exacted.

Her doubts cleared the moment she saw him and she walked towards him, stepping into the shower still clothed, the hot water a shock against her skin. 

She stepped behind him, knowing he'd been aware of her entry the moment she had entered the room, knowing she wouldn't be catching him by surprise like he'd warned her never to. She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing herself into his back as much as she could with her little bump, her breasts crushing against his muscles, the water a heavy staccato on both of them. 

The moment her arms came around him, he stilled, completely. Her first instinct was to freeze too. But she overrode it, spreading her fingers over his abs, his skin slippery due to the water, and pressed her lips to a scar on his back. Her hair was completely wet now, hanging limply off her face, her clothes plastered to her skin as she plastered herself to him. 

He breathed evenly, his back moving with each breath, and she felt it around herself, in every single part of her body. She slowly matched her breaths to his, her heart slowing down, and kept pressing soft, soft kisses to the scars on his back, showing him her acceptance, her affection, her love. 

"Leave, Felicity," he asked quietly, his voice gritty as though he spoke from between clenched teeth. 

She tightened her arms around him, her heart starting to pound again. 

He growled, the sound rumbling through his body, and she felt it against her nipples, her breaths fastening as his hands came down upon hers. 

Suddenly, before she could blink, her front was pressed into the wall, and he was the one behind her, his arms on either side of her head, surrounding her from the back. 

Her heart thudded at the suddenness of the movement, her body responding to him like it always did. 

"You shouldn't be here right now," he growled again, the sound coming from right behind her as the water pounded at her from the side. 

"I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be," she told him softly, inviting him into conversation, into action, into anything. This Oliver, the one who pushed and pulled away, worried her. Worried her a lot. 

"I can't talk right now," he stated, his voice hard. 

She swallowed, keeping her eyes closed, her face front. "Then don't talk."

There was a pause for a second, before his voice came again. "I'll hurt you."

Felicity felt the shock of his words, the conviction of that belief, run through her body. What the hell had that man said to him in the basement?

She turned her face to the side, looking up at him, locking eyes with him to let him see her own conviction, and spoke in a firm tone. "No, you won't." 

His shadowed blue eyes held hers, almost like an anchor in the middle of a storm. "What if I hurt the baby?"

"You won't." 

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, and she saw a hint of vulnerability in him that made her heart clench. 

"The fact that you are in here, asking me this, like this is the answer, Oliver," she told him. "The fact that you're stopping when I know you want to destruct things is answer enough. You are a good man, a better husband, and a much, much better father already than most men are in their lifetimes. That's why I know." 

He stayed silent, before his eyes hardened again. "Leave me alone for some time."

Felicity narrowed her eyes. "No."

The blue blazed. 

"I'm not leaving you, so get that out of your head right now," she informed him, her voice brooking no arguments. "You want to pick me up and dump in the bedroom? Go ahead. You want to take me here against the wall? I'm more than willing to. Or you just want to stand and glare? I'll just stand and glare right back. But I'm not going anywhere."

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms flexing and she turned around on the spot. Never breaking their gazes, she slowly went on her knees, the floor hard and slippery. Getting herself steady, never removing her eyes from his, she slowly brought her hand up, circling her fingers around his rapidly hardening length. She squeezed once and heard him exhale loudly, his eyes blowing up as he watched her, his breaths getting quicker. She moved her hands up and down his cock, once, twice, till he was at full attention, before leaning forward and taking him in her mouth. His eyes closed the moment she did, his head bending down as the pleasure crossed his face, his hips thrusting forward lightly. Felicity let herself tongue him, let herself taste the slightly salty tang of his skin and his essence. The scent of her own arousal wafted up to her, making her realize how wet she herself was, still half clothed in drenched fabric.

His hands never left the wall to grip her hair like he did when she went down on him, his eyes never opened again to lock their gazes like he enjoyed doing when they were having sex, his mouth never opened to let out the soft sounds of passion she knew by heart. And that made her even more determined to break him out of himself.

She pulled her head back, licking the base of his shaft in the way she knew drove him crazy, and felt his hips move forward of their own volition, the reaction completely out of her control. Slowly, she licked her way up to the head, teasing it with her tongue before taking him in her mouth again, her hand moving up and down in sync with her head, taking him deeper and deeper with every motion. She felt him hit the back of her throat the moment his eyes blazed open on hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the lust, the hunger, the madness in them making her spine shiver under the hot water, making her spread her knees slightly as her own walls clenched emptily, her nipples throbbing and heart beating wildly.

"Touch yourself," he ordered her, and she almost smiled around him, her heart melting because even now, even when he was in the throes of his own pleasure, he wanted her to feel good. Happy to comply, she let her free hand drift down her body, sliding under her panties to touch her aching little bundle of nerves. She slid her finger around it, slid him deeper into her mouth and moaned, her eyes closing in pleasure as she heard him sigh loudly through his teeth, his hips tilting forward, seeking her warm mouth.

The carnality of the act made her wetter. The fact that this was the only man who would ever bring this side out of her made her whimper.

Her moans around him made his hips rock faster in a shallow rhythm, a slow imitation of what he did when he was between her legs, and she kept her eyes closed, rubbing her nub furiously, her heart hammering as her breaths raced through her lungs.

She became aware of the hot water sliding sensuously down her back, making the fabric cling to her body. Became aware of the cloth scraping against her hard, aching nipples, aware of the heat pooling in her belly faster and faster as her toes curled and pulse sped. She became aware of the vein running under his cock as it throbbed against her tongue, the taste of him heady, her softness of him over the steely erection heaven in her hand.

Her muffled moans filled the room, along with his rumbling sounds he couldn't contain anymore.

Her nerves stretched taut, arousal a whiplash inside her body, fire running through her veins, Felicity pressed on her clit with the heel of her palm, burying two fingers inside herself, and suddenly, the coil in her body snapped, her fingers moving as heat rushed from the center of her legs to every single limb and her every strand of her hair, her mouth moving around him as she cried out, the groan, the vibrations of her mouth tipping him over the edge as he exploded on a loud cry of her name, his taste filling her mouth as he pulled back, the water washing away his essence, cleaning him and her up before she could savor it.

Removing her fingers from her panties, Felicity sat on her knees, looking up at him as he looked down at her, magnificent, beautiful man with the heart of a king and body of a warrior, his eyes blinking at her.

Without a word, he bent, pulling her up to her feet, his care evident in the firm hold as he made sure she didn't slip in the water, his eyes still shadowed but not as much as they had been. He shut of the water and pulled her clothes off, dropping them on the floor, and wrapped her in a towel, drying himself with another. After a few silent seconds, he stepped out of the stall, turning to pick her up with his hand under her knees and back, and headed towards the bedroom. 

The bedroom was dark as well, and he didn't stop to turn on any light. Walking to the bed, he slowly placed her on her side gently, before walking around the bed and sliding into his. Felicity waited, her heart beating madly, watching him as he loosened the knot of her towel and threw it away, curving his hands around her ass and pulling her forward, spreading her over his chest.

Felicity lay quietly, pressed naked to his own naked form, waiting him out, waiting for him to do something.

After long, long moments of just breathing, he did.

He started tracing her spine.

The knot that had been inside her chest for hours loosened, her body relaxing. He may still be near the hole but he was out of it.

"Sometimes you make me question your sanity," he told her quietly, his face turned towards the ceiling, his eyes watching their reflections in the mirror.

Felicity snuggled happily into his chest, in her warm, safe place, and whispered in a dry voice. "You've been making me question my sanity every day for the past five years."

She saw his lips twitch slightly as his eyes came to hers. "Has it been worth it?"

Felicity felt her gaze soften as her heart melted, spreading her fingers over his Bratva tattoo. "Every single moment."

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers in a sweet, simple kiss that made her heart become a puddle. She kissed him back softly, before pulling back.

"Just because you had a diva moment, don't think you're off the hook for lying to me," she told him, her gaze narrowed. 

"солнышко..."

"Don't 'солнышко' me," she told him firmly, slapping his chest. "You lied to me, Oliver. About something that very much concerned me. That is not okay. You promised you wouldn't do that." 

He looked at her, before sighing. "I wanted to tell you, Felicity. Of course I did. I hate keeping things from you."

"Then why didn't you?" she demanded quietly, getting worked up again. 

"Because I speak to Dr. Nelson almost every second day," he told her, his voice brooking no argument. "And the one thing she tells me is how you cannot afford unnecessary stress."

"You think I'm not strong enough to handle a simple information?" Felicity pulled back, affronted. 

His arms closed around her, keeping her exactly where she had been against him. "You are the strongest person I know. I am not strong enough to even risk the chance of something happening to either of you again.," he murmured quietly. "Had it not been a vulnerable pregnancy, I would have told you."

Felicity sighed, closing her eyes. "It still doesn't make it okay, Oliver." 

"I know." 

Gah, she wanted to bash him. He infuriated her sometimes. 

Slapping his chest again, she glared at him. "This is a hard spot for me, Oliver. You know that. No lying."

The look in his eyes was so conflicted, so genuine, she felt herself soften again. Kissing him once as his hand moved up her spine, she pulled back and murmured softly.

"Trust me to take care of me and our baby like I trust you to take care of us."

He blinked, looked at her, blinked again, before taking a deep breath. "You're right."

Felicity smiled, fist pumping. "Of course I am."

His hand smacked her ass lightly before moving back to her spine as his face turned serious, his eyes darkening to those shadows again. 

Felicity pressed into his chest, her bump nestled between them, safe and warm. 

"Talk to me, Oliver," she told him quietly, waiting for his response. 

He sighed, before nodding, his eyes hardening as his hand stopped between her shoulder blades. 

"I interrogated the man," he said in a hard, cold voice. Felicity barely contained a tremble.

"And?"

Oliver looked at her, his jaw clenched, and opened his mouth. 

"And I know who's behind this now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
> 
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	20. Incinerate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> It's been wayyyy too long but I'm so happy to be back to this story. I missed writing it and you guys missed have been so patient and amazing in your love for this entire saga, it just blows me away! I can't thank you enough for the brilliant response you all give me but THANK YOU SO MUCH!
> 
> This chapter is a little longer than usual (it's weird, this is the third long chapter I'm writing in a row).
> 
> Also, there is a lot of Oliver's back story in this chapter, which might be a little intense, so be warned. His past was not a happy place.
> 
> Here is the next chapter. Stuff happens. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Don't forget to leave me your thoughts. I love to hear from you!
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Turning the corner towards Oliver’s study early in the morning, Felicity took a deep breath and called upon her patience.

Last night, after stating he knew the culprit behind their last few months of misery, her husband had tightened his hold on her, his hand spanning the bump on her stomach, and told her to give him a few minutes to process it before he told her. As impatient as she’d been, Felicity had pushed her face in the crook of his neck and given him the few minutes.

And she’d fallen asleep.

Just like that. She’d been out like a light, tired from both her day and the jelly bean baby who was growing inside her. She’d slept like the dead, with no idea when her husband had left their bed, no clue of how long she’d slept on the sheets without his warmth. She’d just woken up, startled, to find him missing barely an hour after dawn, and quickly donned one of his t-shirts over her loose pajama bottoms that stretched over her large stomach.

Pushing her feet into her house slippers, she’d opened her door to find a guard right outside, asking her if she needed anything.

Felicity had shaken her head and walked away, heading to her husband’s lush study, where she was at the moment.

The early morning sunlight drifted into the house from the tall windows overlooking the lawns, across the wall, lighting her way as she walked carefully, mindful of her delicate pregnancy and even more delicate balance, down the corridor that led to the study.

She wasn’t certain he would be there, but something told her he might be - that he wouldn’t leave the house this early in the morning with her pregnant, especially without telling her, especially after last night. And he wouldn’t go down into the basement to work out either, not after having killed and tortured the evil stranger who’d been stalking her and their unborn baby there.

So, study it was.

Finally reaching the hardwood double doors, Felicity pushed down the knob, her other hand cupping the bottom of her bump, and stepped into the study. It was one of her favorite places in the entire mansion - a place that was warm, cozy and full of meaningful memories for both of them.

As she’d suspected, he was there. Leaning against the open French doors that led out to a small veranda and further into the endless lawn of their property, Oliver stood - wearing dark jeans that cupped his beautiful ass and a simple black t-shirt that hugged his beautiful back - watching something far away.

Felicity admired his form for a long moment, aware that he knew she’d come into the room, and walked towards the plush reddish-brown sofa in the center of the space.

“You know,” she began, her voice still raspy with sleep, “it’s not nice to leave your pregnant wife alone in bed.”

He didn’t reply like he usually would have with a quip of his own.

He didn’t even turn.

Felicity came to a halt beside the sofa, frowning, before she changed directions and headed towards where he stood. Closing the space between them in more steps than she would’ve liked, she finally reached him, extending the hand that wasn’t on the baby bump to fall on his bicep.

“Hey,” she slowly maneuvered herself around, so she stood in front of him, and took in his face.

And for the first time in a long time, he looked haggard. There were dark bags under his tired, slightly frightened but still beautiful eyes, his scruff almost grown out into a little beard, his skin dull.

He put his arms around her waist, pulling her into himself, their baby locked between their bodies, his forehead coming down to rest against hers, his eyes closing as he exhaled softly, his woodsy scent wrapped around her.

“Baby,” Felicity put her hands on his jaw, feeling the soft hair on his face under her palms, her insides clenching at seeing him like this. “Talk to me.”

He sighed. “I’m not proud of some things that I’ve done, солнышко.”

Felicity blinked. “I know, Oliver. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

He rubbed his forehead against hers, caressing her nose with his. “I don’t want the way your eyes look at me to change.”

Gripping his face firmly, Felicity urged him to open his eyes.

He did.

And then she spoke, right from her heart that even now burst with her love for him.

“I don’t care who you were before you met me, Oliver. I don’t care for what you’ve done for more than how it affects you. I know the man you are now and that is someone I’m proud to have as my child’s father and even more proud to have as my husband.”

“солнышко.”

Felicity smiled softly, putting her hands on his chest, feeling the harsh beating of his heart under her palms. “You forget I’ve looked under your heart, Oliver. I’ve lived under your skin. And it’s a beautiful place. So, don’t worry that I won’t look at you the same. Because I don’t look at your with my eyes; I look at you with my heart, and what’s here will never change.”

His eyes fluttered shut for a second upon hearing her words. “Promise?”

Her heart melted. “Cross my heart.”

His lips twitched slightly before he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and backed away, nodding. Face donning focused determination, a look she’d come to recognize very well these past few weeks, he shifted her in the direction of the sofa.

“You need to get off your feet.”

“But-” Felicity started to protest.

“And eat something,” Oliver stated firmly. “I’m not having this discussion with you while you and she go hungry.”

Felicity glared at him, bemused. “It’s a he. And if I eat anything, I’ll puke.” Which was true. Though her morning sickness was pretty sporadic, she’d discovered not to have anything solid in the morning, not until she’d been up and about for a few hours.

Oliver pulled out his phone in response, putting pressure at the base of her spine to get her moving towards the plush cushions.

“Raisa,” Oliver spoke into the phone, his eyes on Felicity. “Could you have someone send a glass of chilled juice and some dry crackers? No, that would be all. Thank you.”

“You’re being very high-handed,” Felicity narrowed her eyes, even as her heart warmed.

“I’m being a concerned husband. Now, sit.”

Felicity put her tush on the sofa and sunk down into the cozy cushioned seat, a groan of appreciation leaving her throat before she could stop it. “Why did it never feel this good a few months ago?”

“You weren’t carrying an extra human being a few months ago.”

“Good point.”

They stayed in silence for a few minutes, Oliver lost in his own thoughts as Felicity watched him. Pulling up the fabric of his t-shirt to under her breasts, Felicity exposed her baby bump (which wasn’t just a bump anymore) and started rubbing her tummy, skin to skin, in a soothing motion that had become habitual. She’d read it somewhere that it helped the baby feel more secure.

Oliver watched her hands, as he’d taken to doing, and leaned forward, placing his own on her stretched skin, his huge hand dwarfing hers, and stroked the bump gently. Felicity watched his hard, rough hand, darkened and calloused, move with exquisite tenderness upon her pale skin and her heart stuttered. Their baby was so, so loved already.

A knock on the study door interrupted the moment.

Oliver looked at her for a moment, pressing a little kiss to her head, and straightened, striding to the door with that confident stride of his. Pulling it open just enough to accept the tray, he shut it again and flipped the lock so they wouldn’t be disturbed, and walked back to her, a huge wooden tray in hand, a tall glass of juice prominently sitting upon it.

Setting the tray down on the table before her, so Felicity could see the crackers and some slices of apple that Raisa had added, Oliver quietly picked up her glass and took a sip, before doing the same with the cracker and the fruit, testing it.

It unnerved her sometimes when he did that, as he’d taken to doing. Every time she had a meal or a drink that came to them unsupervised by Digg or Roy or Raisa, Oliver always tested it first, his fear from that one drugging incident acute. And though she hated that he willingly put himself in danger (in case anything was poisoned) she bit her tongue because she knew their baby was more important. So, she just sat patiently and waited as he tested everything and finally gave her the green light to eat.

Done with the ritual, Oliver walked back towards the veranda doors, and leaned against it, this time facing her, his legs crossed at the ankles and arms crossed over his chest, bringing out the muscles of his forearm in sharp relief.

Felicity picked up the glass and took a sip of the sweet juice, keeping her eyes on his, and nodded.

“Oliver.”

He needed to start talking. Even though she was keeping it cool for the baby’s sake, her nerves were fraught with tension, even more so after Oliver’s reaction.

He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly appearing tired. “I don’t know where to begin.”

Felicity leaned back into the cushions, getting more comfortable, folding her legs under herself. “Start at the beginning.”

He swallowed, making Felicity realize he was worried.

“Baby, it’s just me,” she told him softly. “If you could tell me my father sold me back when we were barely married properly, you can tell me whatever it is now. Trust me, it can’t be worse.”

Oliver exhaled loudly, nodding to himself once, picking up strength.

“You know how I never talk much about my parents?” he asked quietly, starting at the beginning.

Felicity nodded.

“Well, my parents had a big business in trading, and not of the clean kind.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

Oliver inhaled. “Just let me get it all out and then ask anything you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Felicity agreed, her curiosity piqued.

Turning away from his position against the door, Oliver gave her his back, gazing out into the lawn again. Felicity didn’t say anything, not when she knew he had to do it this way, and nibbled on her food slowly.

“My mom,” Oliver began quietly, his voice holding the memories of his past, “managed the entire operation part of it. For the right price, they would transport anything anywhere. But my mom had a rule - never ask questions that could get you killed. She was incredibly protective of me and Thea, and despite the stained money, she kept her head low just to keep us safe from the people she dealt with.”

_Wow._ That was the most she’d heard him talk about them.

Felicity digested it as he paused, blinking. His mother sounded intriguing.

A pang shot through her heart, feeling for Oliver, for the boy who’d lost a mother he’d evidently loved. It was in his voice as he talked about her.

Felicity swallowed a lump down her throat as he started talking again.

“My dad, on the other hand…” his voice cooled slightly, a sign she knew meant he was angry. It seemed despite so many years, he was still angry at his father.

“My dad was the one who managed the money, not only for the business but for other people as well.”

_Interesting._

“It had all been okay. They kept their end of the deal, got the money and lived. But soon after Thea was born, dad started keeping a file. My mom told him it was dangerous, but he said it was leverage, in case he ever needed to protect us.”

Felicity’s stomach clenched, the glass in her hand forgotten, a bad feeling settling in the pit of her tummy. Taking a deep breath, she softly rubbed her bump, trying not to get too stressed.

Oliver raised an arm and leaned it on the threshold of the open door, the wind softly caressing them through the open doorway, the sheer curtains dancing around him as his hand clenched into a fist.

“Dad started gathering all the evidence he could, of transactions that all his dangerous clients made, into that file. For a long time, he did that and nobody knew. He had a trusted name in the business and lots of old clients from all the mobs all over the world. Nobody doubted him for his word, except one man.”

_Uh oh._

“His name was _Cobra_ ,” Oliver snarled, spitting the name.

_Cobra?_ Definitely not his real name.

Felicity pursed her lips to keep from voicing her question and let him continue, watching his back muscles flex under the t-shirt in the soft light, watching him try to keep control of his breathing.

“ _Cobra_ was an independent drug lord. Except, he also dealt on the side with humans and weapons. He had a huge empire in dealing with all the mobs except the Bratva. He’d been trying to get into a partnership for years and never succeeded. Bratva rarely accepts outsiders.”

_Then how had they accepted Oliver?_

“So, he turned to my father.”

Felicity frowned, not understanding. Oliver elaborated.

“My dad had great contacts inside the Bratva, many of them men with a lot of power who had my dad do their money for them. And _Cobra_ started paying my dad in exchange for secrets of those men, secrets that he could use as leverage to get what he wanted.”

Oh, lord. This was getting bad. Very bad.

Oliver took in a deep breath, shaking his head. “Dad refused. For once, he refused, knowing it would put all of us in great jeopardy. But _Cobra_ didn’t take rejections and someone in dad’s office let it slip that Dad had a file on almost everyone, including _Cobra_ himself. The man panicked. Dad’s office was ransacked and searched through. There was a break in at our house too. And no file was found.”

He paused for a long moment, his hand bunching into a tighter fist as his muscles shook. The urge to go to him, to hold him, overtook Felicity but she forced herself to stay still, to let him get through it.

Oliver began speaking again, his voice soft, a small tremor in it letting her know revisiting these memories was getting harder for him.

“I was fifteen years old,” he started in a soft voice, the ache in it consuming her. “I still remember that night. Mom had made me her apple pie because I’d been upset over the girl I liked in school kissing another boy. Thea had been laughing at the table, making kissy noises and Dad had been on the phone, talking to someone.”

Felicity closed her eyes, pain for what she knew was going to happen assaulting her, the picture of this beautiful family, of his mother whom he’d loved so much, of his sister being a baby, of him, his absolutely normal adolescence, ripping her heart to shreds.

“Oliver…” his name escaped her before she could stop it, her own voice trembling with the force of her emotions for him.

He shook his head, not facing her.

She bit her lip, her fingers digging into her thighs as she continued keeping one hand relaxed on her bump.

Oliver inhaled deeply and continued, his beautiful voice haunted.

“The lights went out all of a sudden. Mom thrust Thea at me and told us to go to the panic room at the back of the house. I did, without asking anything because Speedy was my priority. She was just a child and didn’t understand what was happening, but she went with me.”

Felicity unconsciously leaned forward.

“I locked her in, told her I’d be back in a jiffy. And then I went back to the kitchen, to see if Mom needed my help.”

Felicity held her breath, her eyes closing momentarily for what she knew had happened.

Oliver paused, slumping slightly, before sitting down on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees as he kept looking out.

“There were five men in the house, all dressed in black and wearing balaclavas. I hid behind the wall but couldn’t move. My dad could see me from where he was on his knees as a hostage. And he shook his head, told me not to come out. I listened to him because Thea was locked alone in the house and I couldn’t leave her unprotected. A man was holding my mom down, and the others were just standing there, watching. One man came forward and asked my dad about the file. Dad didn’t say a word. So, the man slit my mom’s throat.”

Pain exploded inside her chest as a tear ran down her eye, the depth of her husband’s agony, his guilt coming to fore and speaking to her. A sob got trapped in her throat for him, her heart filling with love as she understood, truly understood the love he had for Thea, the love he’d had for his parents, his mother especially.

Oliver kept speaking, his own voice quivering.

“Those guys kept asking my dad about the file and he told them he’d destroyed it. They asked about his kids and he told them we were away. Since they’d already searched our house, they didn’t again. But one man put the gun to my father’s head and my dad looked me in the eye and only said one word. _Cobra._ That was his last word to me.” 

“Oliver-”

“I need to finish this, Felicity.”

She nodded, her heart hurting.

“The men took the bodies and I ran back to Thea, quickly packing her stuff up and left the house. Thankfully, my mom had set up an emergency account for me and stashed it with money along with some fake ids for both of us. And thankfully, I was tall for my age so I could pass for 18. I took it all and checked into a hotel with Thea. She asked me about it and I couldn’t tell her.”

His voice shook.

_God, of course, he couldn’t._

“I didn’t know what to do. I was so out of my element and so, _so angry,_ Felicity.”

She swallowed. “What happened then, Oliver?”

“I called Raisa. She’d been with us since I’d been born. I told her everything, told her where I was. She came to get us and took us to her house. For a few days, I was in a daze. I had no idea where to even begin and what to do. Finally, after a while, I told Thea that we weren’t going home ever again. And amazing as she was, even devastated, you know what she told me?”

Felicity shook her head, realizing he couldn’t see, and whispered. “What?”

“ _‘We’ll make our own home, Ollie.’”_

_Oh, Thea._ Did she even realize how much she’d saved her brother?

“That was the jolt I needed,” he reminisced. “I realized it wasn’t over, that sooner or later, those people would come looking for us, for the file again. And I had to protect Thea and myself and Raisa too. I went to my school a few days later, to get my name moved, saying I would be into home tutoring and went to my locker to clear it out. And the file was there…

“My father had died, protecting me, knowing if the file was found in my locker, I’d be killed too.”

“What did you do then?”

Oliver finally took a deep breath and turned around, still sitting on the floor but facing her, his blue eyes glistening but hardening with every heartbeat.

“I used it, Felicity, exactly what my father had intended it for,” he uttered, his voice hard, eyes burning. “As leverage. I memorized the entire file, learned everything about _Cobra_ and went to the only people who’d never taken him in.”

“The Bratva,” Felicity muttered, stunned at his fifteen-year-old self, at his shrewdness.

“Yes,” he spoke again. “Old men with experience don’t usually take fifteen-year-old kids seriously. But once they knew I was the son of Robert Queen, that I knew their dirty big secrets that would destroy them in the wrong hands, they were pretty accepting of me.”

Felicity sat back on the cushion, keeping her eyes on his. “Go on.”

Oliver eyed her full glass of juice for a split second but didn’t comment.

“I started my training with them but I had to go away a lot. So, I moved Thea’s school, shifted her in with Raisa and traveled to see her whenever I could. I also kept my ear to the ground about _Cobra_. I knew he was still searching for the file but he’d not approached anyone again, and I wasn’t experienced enough to take him on. So, I bid my time, becoming stronger, making myself more lethal than he could ever be. I killed. I tortured and I did it without letting it stain me, only one thing on my mind - _Cobra_. Because he was a direct threat to my baby sister.”

Felicity wiped the tears from her eyes silently, seeing Oliver’s face soften slightly as he looked at them, his own slightly moist.

God, she was so, so proud of this man. So proud of being his wife, so proud of the fact that he’d seen so much pain and yet remained human. She’d seen people become monsters, make mistakes, lose everything. Her own father had. And yet, this man, a fifteen-year old who’d witnessed his beloved parents dying, who’d chosen to stay hidden to not leave his sister unprotected when she knew everything inside him would’ve been aching to help, this man was still flawed and damaged, and yet so beautiful, her heart ached.

“I was eighteen,” he continued, his control over himself better now, “when Raisa’s house was broken into and Thea’s room ravaged. I knew the moment I heard that it was _Cobra._ So, I bought a smaller apartment in Moscow, moved them both in, and went after the man who’d broken in. You remember the guy they called _‘The Claw’_? The Bratva guy I’d killed who’d led me to Ilyich?”

Felicity nodded, shuddering at that old nightmare.

Oliver kept speaking in that hard tone she associated with murder and mayhem. “ _The Claw_ was an independent assassin, hired by anyone with money to do whatever they wanted. When I killed him, he was working for Ilyich and the Bratva. But before that, almost three years ago, he’d been working for _Cobra_.”

Felicity gasped, her eyes widening as her brain caught up.

“He was there that night, wasn’t he?” she whispered, the piece falling into place, her hands gripping the sofa beside her.

Oliver nodded, a flicker of pain ghosting over his eyes before he got it back under control.

“He was the one who slit my mother’s throat. And I killed him with my bare hands, all that pain and rage escaping me,” he muttered, his fingers flexing as though in memory. “And I carved him with a message, leaving him at one of _Cobra_ ’s men’s gate, telling them to stay away from my sister or he would be next.”

A shiver ran down her spine, the extent to which he could go to protect the people he loved making him so lethal.

“Did he stay away?” she asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Oliver shook his head. “No. He’d taken interest in Thea, who was barely a child, but he was a sick bastard. _Such a fucking sick bastard._ He decided he wanted the file _and_ her.”

Fury infused her blood, rushed through her veins at the thought, her lip curling in disgust.

Oliver grit his teeth, his own anger becoming obvious. “He just kept coming for her but I somehow kept thwarting him. Thea never even knew or realized that she was in danger and that’s how I liked it. She was settling and happy and I wanted that for her. But _Cobra just wouldn’t fucking stop._ ”

His jaw clenched, the vein on the side of his neck throbbing wildly.

“And you know the more frustrating thing, Felicity?” he asked rhetorically. “I didn’t even _know_ who he was. I had no clue about his real name, where he lived, where he was from or even an image. Nothing. All I knew was the secrets my dad had gathered about him, and this insane rage inside me to finish him. I knew a few of his men but he was sporadic. He’d be gone for months and suddenly, he’d be there.”

Felicity felt his own frustration surmounting inside her, the feeling gathering pace as she put herself in his shoes, trying to imagine what it must have been like, having such a terrible weight on your shoulders.

“In three years, I’d made a lot of connections of my own and I started gathering info on both _Cobra_ and Ilyich, thinking maybe they could be connected or one would lead me to the other. I also hired Digg.”

Felicity started a little at that and Oliver’s lip curled as he explained.

“I needed an outsider, someone not involved in any of this shit, as a partner. Digg had just finished his first tour and we met in a bar, of all places. I had a good feeling about him. So, I sat Digg down and told him about _Cobra_ , about his threat to Thea and that was that. He was on board, my bodyguard to the world.”

Felicity smiled a little, totally imagining Digg almost a decade ago with a young Oliver.

“Digg is Digg,” she remarked.

Oliver’s mouth twitched. “Digg is Digg.”

Sobering again, he went on. “It took me five years to finally put a name to the man who’d become my own demon. Five years and I had a name, an address, a picture and the fact that he was in his forties, diabetic, had a wife, a brother who was his second and no kids. It was Raisa’s niece, in fact, who put it all together and gave it to me.”

“So that’s why you trusted her?” Felicity asked, remembering what he’d said about working with her once a long time ago.

Oliver agreed. “I did. She was a brilliant informant. If something existed in the Bratva, she knew about it. I went to her and as a special case asked her to look for _Cobra_. She knew Raisa had a deep affection for Thea and myself, so she took it on.”

Minutes ticked by as Oliver paused, gathering his thoughts and Felicity sat, soaking everything up, waiting for him to begin again.

Oliver’s eyes drifted to the full glass again and Felicity sighed, picking it up and gulping down the juice quickly, setting the glass on the table again, moving that out of the way.

Satisfied, Oliver regarded her for a moment, his eyes lingering on her bump before he spoke again.

“I called him that night,” he remembered, his voice suddenly frosty. “Told him who I was. Warned him to leave my sister alone or I’d kill his family like he’d killed mine. He just laughed. Told me I was a cocky, hot-blooded ass who couldn’t touch a hair on his head. Until that point, I’d still been in control. And then he started talking shit about Thea. About how he’d…”

He stopped, took a deep breath, and Felicity gulped down the knot of hatred brewing in her throat.

“Anyways,” he skipped ahead. “By the time the call was done, I was in a rage unlike I’d ever felt before. I knew what this man had done to other people, other women, other girls. He’d had my parents murdered. And he was after my baby sister. I was in a _rage_ , Felicity. _Such rage_.”

She felt the echo of that rage in her own bones, its flames licking across her skin, his words feeding it.

“Tell me you killed him, Oliver,” Felicity muttered, her teeth clenched, her own protectiveness of both Thea and her husband making her want to murder the man herself.

And Oliver broke their eye contact, his gaze falling to the ground.

“I didn’t just kill him, Felicity. I killed others too. Innocent people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. For the first time in my life, I crossed that line I’d never allowed myself to cross. I became a monster.”

Felicity stilled, hearing what he’d just told her.

“Oliver-”

His eyes stayed down, the weight of those innocent deaths, the guilt of those unintended kills still haunting him after seven years. He didn’t look up, and Felicity realized he was afraid of what he’d see in her eyes now that he’d told her so much, afraid that she would judge him for what he’d done in anger, desperation and pain that had been simmering for years.

Felicity took a deep breath.

Without another word, she unfolded her form from the cushions and got up, making her way to where he was sitting slowly, on bare feet, her toes heavy upon the soft rugs as his t-shirt fell down her thighs from where it had been bunched up.

Reaching him, she realized she couldn’t do what she wanted to do without assistance anymore, not with her big stomach. So, she quietly put her hands upon his broad shoulders, finally, _finally_ touching him. His hands automatically came up to her waist protectively, his head swiveling up as she got down on her knees, thighs on the side of his hips and straddled him, his musky scent all wrapped around her.

Leaving her hands to rest on his shoulders, Felicity looked deep into his soulful blue eyes - eyes that had stunned her, captivated her, burned her from the first moment she’d seen him - and murmured softly in the air between them.

“Let me have it, baby.”

She saw his Adam’s apple bob once as he swallowed, his eyes glued to hers, taking strength from her unwavering stare.

“He lived in a huge bungalow, in a property deep off the highway. Not easy to reach. But I was already on the highway when I’d made the call to him.”

Felicity slowly kneaded the knotted muscles on his shoulders and let him speak, never removing her eyes from his.

“I gathered a few people I’d trusted, including Digg. He wasn’t completely agreeable to the plan but he didn’t let me go alone. I made sure _Cobra_ was inside the house, infiltrated his property, and knocked out the few men who came up against us. And then…”

“And then…?” she prompted.

“I torched down the entire house,” he whispered almost inaudibly. “Burned it all down. And I stayed there to watch, to see it all crumble to ash until dawn.”

Felicity swallowed, the harsh weight of his guilt falling upon her as well, her own realization that her husband had his faults, was the villain of someone else’s story making her heart clench. Taking a deep breath, because whoever he’d been he wasn’t anymore, hadn’t been for a very long time, Felicity urged him to go on silently.

“Six people died that night,” he exhaled, his jaw clenching. “Three of them had been completely innocent - _Cobra_ ’s wife, his sister-in-law and the housekeeper. Cobra, his brother, and his right-hand man perished. He was finished. After that night, his operations, his empire, everything crumbled. _Cobra_ was gone, and Ilyich rose to take the empty place left by his demise.”

“And then you went after Ilyich and discovered about my father’s involvement,” Felicity finished, pieces that had been missing for so long clicking into place.

“And then I went after Ilyich and discovered about your father’s involvement,” he echoed, agreeing.

Felicity sat silently for a few minutes, wrapping her mind around everything he’d just told her, around the fact that he’d brutally killed an entire houseful of people to avenge his parents and protect his sister, around the fact that despite all that, she only felt unadulterated love for him. What that said about her, she didn’t know. What she did know was that her husband was a good man, who did not attack until pushed into a corner, who loved so deeply it became his entire reason for existence. She knew she was lucky enough to experience that love with him, lucky enough to be the mother of his child, to see him shower that love on their baby too.

She felt for him, for what he’d been through and how it haunted him. But as she’d told him, it didn’t change anything for her, except perhaps make her heart feel fuller for him, stretched to a capacity she’d not believed she had.

And if his slightly panicked eyes were any indication, it was time to tell him that.

She took a hold of his hands from her waist and moved it away, seeing his eyes flare in pain, misunderstanding her action. Slowly, without taking her eyes off him, she brought his hands up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger.

“I’m in awe of you,” she told him honestly, baring her heart.

He swallowed, not interrupting her, relief stark on his face.

“I’m in awe of the man you’ve become today despite everything you’ve been through. Yes, you made a harsh choice but you were pushed into a harsh situation, Oliver. And though the innocent lives can only be mourned, what you removed that day from the face of the earth may have saved so many more innocent lives unknowingly. Do you realize that?”

“It was still wrong, солнышко,” he whispered quietly.

Felicity stayed silent for a moment, considering him. “You cannot judge the world we live in by black and white, Oliver. There are some lines that can never be crossed but your situation? It wasn’t so simple. Do you remember what you told me when I asked you once about how could my father have sold me off to a monster like Ilyich when he’d loved me so much?”

Oliver pursed his lips.

Felicity went on. “You told me _‘desperation makes people do things they can never fathom doing’_. You were right. I have to live every day with the knowledge that my father sold me and yet he’d loved me. But you know the difference, Oliver?”

“What?”

“My father had been a coward,” she stated, a pang of hurt still inside her when she thought about him, something that would perhaps never truly go away. “You, on the other hand, are fearless. When pushed into a corner, you decimated instead of pacified. You attacked rather than hid. You protected instead of abandoned. You are a good man, Oliver Queen. You were a good son, an even better brother, the most wonderful husband and a better father already than most men are in their lifetimes. And I love you to the ends of the earth, no matter what you did or will ever do.”

A slight tremor went through his hands as he turned them and cupped her face, his forehead falling forward into the crook of her neck, his entire body subdued as his breaths fell rapidly over her skin, his frame shuddering.

Felicity wrapped her arms around him like she’d wanted to for so long, pulling him as deep into her body as she could with the baby between them, caressing his back under his t-shirt softly, feeling his scars under her palm, marks that she’d memorized and mapped over the years. She stroked them with all the love she felt, her other hand on the back of his neck, keeping him locked to her as he breathed heavily against her, all the weight, all the pain, all the anger slowly draining from him, her neck becoming wet from his eyes as her own moistened.

After long, long moments of holding him like he’d never been held, Felicity asked him the question that had been burning in her brain since last night.

“What happened last night, Oliver?”

Taking a small, stuttering breath, Oliver pulled back from her neck and looked at her, his cheeks wet. Felicity wiped it away with her small hands, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his trembling lips.

He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and locked gazes with her again.

“Last night,” he began, in better control, “after we got home, I took the man downstairs.”

Felicity nodded, urging him to go on.

“At first, Digg tried to question him. Scare him a little. He just smiled and didn’t give a straight answer. I was getting frustrated so I moved Digg and got in place instead. It got bad, worse than I’ve done in a very long time.”

“What did he tell you?” Felicity asked, keeping him from going deep into that dark place again.

His eyes looked at her like they did sometimes, so, so softly it made her melt. He knew what she was doing, as usual.

“After a while, he revealed he’d been given orders to follow you and scare you, spread the news about your pregnancy by someone who’d hired him years ago. He’d been keeping an eye on you for some time but keeping his distance since that had been his orders. They changed only a few months ago.”

Felicity shuddered slightly, remembering the creepy man with the creepier stare. “Did he say something about the abduction?”

Oliver shook his head. “He didn’t say anything after that. Not about the attack on Raisa or your kidnapping. I asked him who was giving him orders and after a long time he just uttered one single word.”

“ _Cobra_ ,” Felicity guessed.

Oliver gave a nod. “It had been so long since I’d even thought of him. When you told me the man in the warehouse had told you seven years, I did think for a second about him but then shook it off. I’d been there the entire night, Felicity. Nobody had escaped that house alive and by the time I’d left, everything had been ashes.”

Felicity blinked, confused. “Then why would this guy say _Cobra_ was giving him orders?”

Oliver huffed out a breath. “I don’t know. To fuck with my head?”

She shook her head, something not feeling right. “But what if… just say hypothetically… he made it somehow. Why wait for seven years before attacking? What’s the point of me being pregnant in all this? And most importantly, why hide?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head in frustration. “He’s always done his work in hiding so that’s not surprising if it’s him. I don’t know why wait, though. I only got more powerful over the years. It doesn’t make sense.”

Felicity bit her bottom lip, a bad feeling taking a grip of her throat.

“Something isn’t right here, Oliver.”

“I know, Felicity,” he agreed.

“What now?” she asked, her heart pounding as everything finally settled inside her.

Oliver looked at her for a long minute, his blue eyes looking bluer in the morning light, his face a hard mask of determination, the look he wore right before he fucked things up.

“Last time, he’d come after Thea and me,” he murmured softly. “This time, he came after you and our baby. If it’s him, I’m going to decimate him again. If it’s him, he’s going to wish he died in that fire.”

Felicity swallowed. “And if it’s someone else?”

Oliver held her stare. “Then they’re going to burn in my flames.”

And they sat there in the ensuing silence, lost in their own thoughts, wrapped around each other, the sun burning brighter in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations :  
> солнышко - Little Sunshine
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